Six Days, Seven Snapes
by The Great Snape Escape
Summary: Three years since the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort and Harry is on top of the world; in less than a week that will all change. Old enemies will become new friends, strange alliances will be made and Harry must confront his greatest foe yet. Warning: Snarry. Character Death. Explicite Adult Content.
1. There's something about Snape

A/N: Due to personal taste and the futility of creating a plot line without suspicious potion masters and rowdy twins, Snape is alive and Forge is in business. Regardless of the amateurish writing and disappointing defeat of the Dark Lord, everything else in Harry Potter and the Extremely Heavy Paperweight (Book 7) is used. Except for the two choice resurrections, this fiction will be as canon as possible, simply with artistic liberty and individual opinions and preferences.

Warning: Character Death, Explicit Adult Content, Snarry (This means Harry and Snape are going to do it. A lot.)

If you can't handle it, don't read it. But if you do read it, please review it. I love hearing your thoughts on the story.

Disclaimer: We in no manner legally associate or profit from the Harry Potter books, films, or anything for we do not own it. The only gain from this is not making any friends and a lot of titillating Snarry action. Please, enjoy.

Chapter One: There's Something About Snape

Day One

15:00

Harry looked out, watching the waves crest and linked his fingers with Ginny's. He couldn't believe he was even standing here on the warm beaches of Barcelona, alive and free, married to Ginny Weasley- Potter now. He smiled at that- Ginny Potter, his wife. In three short years his life had gone from a living nightmare to something out a storybook and he didn't mind it one bit. It did take a while, to help Professor McGonagall rebuild the School and watch the wizarding world pull back together, but all of their struggles had been well worth it.

"You look happy." Ginny commented, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist.

"I am happy." He said, giving her a small kiss. "You look radiant," he replied, brushing a bit of hair from her face. It was true; the sun's setting rays shone off her hair and illuminated her perfectly. The dancing sunlight and Ginny Wea-_Potter-_ were made to dance together. She was beautiful beyond words to him.

Ginny grinned up at him; her smile was stunning. "You don't have to compliment me anymore, Harry. We're married."

"Aw, come on baby- I like giving you compliments." He buried his nose into her pale, slender neck.

"Oh god," She said, laughing. "Don't even call me that, unless you want to sleep outside." They started walking down the beach, hand in hand. It was their last day here before heading back to the real world the next morning. The past two weeks had been amazing, with nothing and no one to bother but each other. They had spent the first three days in their hotel room, ordering room service and enjoying the seemingly endless hours that Harry had to rediscover every inch of her exquisite body. Ginny finally convinced him to leave their suite and do a bit of exploring and he didn't mind it that much. Barcelona was a beautiful city and Harry liked having the easy excuse to buy his new bride pretty things she probably didn't need but more than deserved.

"Haven't been married two weeks yet and you're already kicking me out of our bed." Harry complained half-heartedly, laughing when Ginny gave him a playful shove.

"Oh come off it! You'd deserve it if I did." She said, grinning at him. She had that look in her eyes, the one that made Harry's stomach do flips and his skin flush. He also knew what that look meant; flashing Ginny a grin he pulled her close so their clothes were the only thing separating them before turning on the balls of his feet and apparating the both of them to the parlor of their suite.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's neck as their lips locked in a heated kiss. Harry slipped his hands under Ginny's shirt, his hands grazing her soft skin. He unclipped her bra and started to lead her to the bedroom.

"Forgive me for interrupting, Mister Potter." A familiar voice, eerie and from the past, broke Harry's concentration and they both turned to the main door. Ginny gasped and Harry swallowed a choice curse that had been on the tip of his tongue.

Severus Snape, in all his broken glory, was leaning against the ivory walls of Harry and Ginny's honeymoon suite in obvious disarray. There was dried blood on his face and in his hair. One hand was clutching his ribcage while the other hung lifelessly at his side. His robes were torn and muddy, and a substantial amount of blood was pooling at the potions master's feet. Harry thought his nose might have even been broken again; it was bleeding enough to have been and seemed a bit larger than usual.

Any fantasy the young Potter had of leaving Snape to bleed to death a second time, he had somehow survived the first time, he'd probably be fine this time as well, and continue his work on Ginny was slashed as the object of his affection snapped her bra back on with a short shriek and darted over to the object of his animosity. Ginny vainly attempted to help Snape over to the small couch; he naturally resisted her assistance and limped stubbornly to the couch and reclined.

"What's happened Snape? Rogue Death Eaters too much for you, old man?" Harry asked, ignoring Ginny when she glared up at him. She had her wand out and was starting work on healing, something Harry was sure he'd never be able to do.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, Potter?" Snape hissed, flicking some blood through his lips onto the armrest. "However, once again you prove just how unlearned and unaware you really are."

Harry picked up a beaten up broomstick and leaned it against the wall. "You flew here? No wonder you're all beaten up."

"Harry James Potter." Ginny whispered in warning, setting Severus' arm. If the man felt any pain he didn't make it apparent, save a slight twitch of his eye. Harry didn't know why he said it. Didn't know why Snape being there turned him so sour. The last time he saw the man he was bleeding to death in the Shrieking Shack, when Harry had gone back for the body- to see Snape taken care of, he was gone.

He had searched for months, to no avail and had to come to terms with Snape's death without any sort of closure. Now the Ex-Death Eater and the man who saved Harry's life too many times to count, was bleeding on the couch. All Harry could do was act like an adolescent and insult the man.

After a few minutes of incredibly awkward silence, Snape sat up.

"Professor please, you need to rest." Ginny started, but was cut off with a wave of Snape's hand.

"We don't have time. We must leave immediately." Snape stood and took the broom from the wall.

"Not until you tell us what's going on, Snape. You don't just show up back from the dead and start handing out orders. In case you didn't know- we're on vacation. We're honeymooning, in fact." Harry said, folding his arms. He refused to let Snape push him around like a kid. To hell with his resurrection. The git probably came back just to torture Harry.

"England, France, and Germany." Snape turned to face Harry, his face completely expressionless.

"What about them?" Ginny asked slowly, throwing on a light, fashionable knit sweater.

"They are the countries that were under control of Greyback and his forces when I escaped just under twenty-four hours ago." Snape said. He looked as if he expected Harry to call him a liar, seemed to wait for it.

"Bollocks." Harry said, never one to disappoint. "Greyback has been locked up for years. He's probably dead and no one's bothered to move the body."

"Of course; I had completely forgotten that you were an authority on the subject." Snape closed his eyes and took in a steady breath. When his eyes opened, he snatched up a strand of lank hair that had fallen in his face and smoothed it in behind his ear. "Get ready now, Mister Potter. I cannot spare another moment debating the inarguable fact of your imminent death if we do not flee this very minute."

During Snape's retort, Ginny had busied herself in the background, shrinking things and stuffing them into her purse. Harry looked irritatingly at her, watching her turn the room quickly into shambles. So much for his vacation…

"Where do you get off at?" Harry shouted sharply at Snape, whose filthy robes were still dripping blood, mud, and who knows what else all over the polished wooden floor. The smears of dirt and grime where Snape had walked were annoyingly obvious in the spacious white-coloured room. So were his handprints along the priorly pristine walls. Good thing they weren't at home; that maroon shag carpet would be ruined.

That glare flew off Harry's face and he blanched as the realization of why Ginny had burst into action hit him. If England had really been conquered as Snape claimed, Ginny's family – his family – would all be in grave danger. What if the Weasley clan had all been forced into hiding? What if they had all been killed?

They weren't the only ones in jeopardy; everyone Harry had come to love and care for lived on the island. France and Germany had also fallen, according to Snape's facts. What sort of dark power could have felled three such authoritative countries like that? Surely not Greyback…

Harry watched dazedly as Ginny snatched his cloak from the hat rack and stuffed it into her purse. He turned to Snape and was about to ask him about his family's safety when the man cut him off.

"Purge the thought from your mind, Mister Potter. Your safety is the imperative focus; if you want to help anyone you will leave now."

Harry snapped shut his mouth, nodded, and rushed to aid his wife in gathering anything immediately useful and necessary. In his search, he added many items of extreme sentiment- the photo album, the last sweater from Molly, Ginny's wedding garter, the Sneakoscope. His ring was already on his hand, and Ron's uncle's watch never left his wrist. In the bedlam of packing and panic, Snape stood warily at the window, constantly scanning outside for a sign of pursuers.

"Harry! Hold onto this!" Ginny handed off her bag and dashed into the kitchen.

"Ginny!" Harry called after her, sliding the strap around his right shoulder.

"We'll have to eat, Harry!" She shrieked from the cupboards. Harry dashed towards her, wanting to help, wishing he could quell the panic from his mind. A sudden thud and the sound of splintering wood and cascading glass filled the air, accompanied by a livid scream from Ginny; these sounds were more than agony for Harry. He burst into the room, vaguely hearing a garble of words emanating from Snape's mouth.

In the kitchen, Ginny was facing off against two intruders in the doorway facing the beach. She was quite advanced for a witch, but she was obviously battling in vain. Harry stepped up and disarmed one with a quick and powerful "Expelliarmus!" and Ginny managed to stun the other sufficiently. Snape crashed into the room as Harry clasped a hand around Ginny, leading her from the rubble. They were all ready to leave, going for their brooms and led by Snape to the back porch. Both Harry and Ginny grabbed their brooms from their places left outside after their last flying stretch the night before. Snape mounted his and kicked up into the air, the couple following suit.

They weren't seven feet up when a flash of sickly and blinding green light filled the entire atmosphere. Shocked, Harry turned around just as Ginny let a gentle sigh from her lips. She was looking straight at him, a shocked expression of confusion etched on her pretty face. As if in slow motion, Harry watched her eyes glaze over and roll back into her head. As he turned back for her, a hoarse cry strangling his throat, her body had already plummeted to the white, warm sand of the soft dunes kissing the ebbing waves of the incoming tide.

Harry landed at her side, eyesight misty with tears emanating his distress. The waves lapped at him, swishing lightly at Ginny's hair, the foam of the water gathered shyly in the lustrous red locks. Harry pulled her corpse to himself, disbelieving what had happened, what he had let happen. Was this his fault? Was the curse meant for him? A sharp, small, stinging blast hit his left shoulder, bringing him back. He snapped his head back to see a large, blonde man advancing towards him, wand drawn. He carefully laid Ginny's corpse down and brought out his own wand from his pocket. He fell into a protective stance, quivering with hate and panic.

"You fucking bastard," he spat. The murderer simply laughed boisterously, tossing back his head and displaying large teeth. Harry couldn't help but feel he had met this man before, the familiarity of the situation was unnerving and he himself was already enraged beyond all reason.

"I'll kill you where you stand for what you've done!" Harry flung out his wand, the words of the killing curse ready in his mouth. His adversary, however, was faster, shouting them out in a swift bark. Harry tensed, fully expecting to be hit. The death ray missed though, and he looked past its residual streak to see Ginny's murderer covered in slashes, bleeding profusely. Snape hovered above him, attacking the man over and over with his wand. Harry bolted forward; Snape managed to cease his attack just in time as Harry punched the blonde man square in the face.

"You killed her!" He shouted. He looked up to see naught but a malicious and bloody grin amid entangled hair. His stomach lurched, and as he was about to get hit himself, he felt cold fingers latch onto him and pull him up. The last thing he saw before the island zipped by was that sadistic grin plastered on Ginny's murderer's face. He felt his body go numb then, and grasped onto Snape and his broom while a wistful and defeated sob broke out from him. It was too much; the shock of what just happened overwhelmed him and as he noted a chilling hand with white knuckles wrapping firmly around him, Harry fainted.

21:45

Snape shook Harry awake as they approached a small wizarding village in Italy hours later. Severus was sure there had to be someone who would recognize Potter and in turn aid them in any way they could.

That was unless Greyback had continued his violent onslaught against the Wizarding World. Then they would turn the both of them in without a moment's hesitation. Snape pushed the thought from his mind; at the moment the only thing of any importance was getting Potter to a safe and secure location, for Snape to devise a Gryffindor-Proof plan.

Harry's hands tightened on the broomstick as he slowly realized he was no longer dreaming. He had been dreaming of Ginny, his pretty Ginny. Harry's eyes began to sting and they filled with tears; his chest ached painfully with the immediate knowledge that Ginny was no longer with him.

"You should have left me to die, Snape." He said hoarsely, closing his eyes.

Snape clenched his jaw to keep from just pushing Potter off the broomstick. "Yes, Mister Potter; you being dead would have made everything so much easier. Why did I even bother coming to you?" He growled into the boy's ear. "And what would have happened to her family? Beaten and terrified in Greyback's cells, because you were dead as well, Potter? As painful as it is for me to admit it, your survival is key to our own."

Harry swallowed his pride, too broken to fight and looked around them. "Where are we?"

"I honestly have no idea, Mister Potter, but hopefully one of these people will have enough floo powder for the both of us to get as far away from here as possible."

"So you have a plan?" Harry said, dismounting the broom and watched Snape do the same.

"Of course I have a plan," Snape said impatiently. "When in our history together have I not had a plan?"

"Don't get snarky with me, Snape." Harry bristled, "I deserve to know what the hell is going on, without the sarcasm."

Snape turned to Harry, his bloody robes swimming around his ankles and a dangerous look in his eye. "Listen to me, Potter, and listen well. I did not escape, half dead, from Greyback to warn and take you to safety for you to question my every move. We will discuss the nuances of what hell our world has fallen into once I am absolutely certain we will not experience another such episode as we did several hours ago. I am most aggrieved about your wife," he added, and Harry knew he wasn't. "But you must continue on or you will end up in the same manner as she."

"I'm not going to follow you blindly, Snape." Harry snapped.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it as recently as three years ago, Potter." Snape hissed in return.

Harry glared at the Potions Master, trying to decide whether or not he should do what Snape said. It was true that Snape was the only reason Harry had actually defeated Voldemort. It wasn't as if he couldn't have done it without him. It wasn't as if anything had gone by Snape at all throughout Harry's entire life, really, even if the man had not been directly involved in every skirmish. Harry's scowl deepened; he was not willing to apologize now or ever, but he could acknowledge that Snape had always stuck his great big nose into all Harry's business during his education.

"Fine," he spat, grinding his teeth together. Snape bowed his head, physically noting Harry's current submission to his authority. He started forward then, taking brisk steps towards the town's heart. He didn't look to make sure that Harry was following; if he had, he'd have seen Harry slouching over, dragging his feet against the dirt with his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his light jeans.

When Snape stopped, Harry actually bumped into him, so enveloped was he in his own despairing world. Snape pushed him back, putting Harry behind a corner of a small, red brick structure. Harry was about to ask what was going on when Snape thrust the broom into his hands and pushed Harry further along the building, back into an alley behind it.

"Are we in danger here?"

Snape aimed a pointed expression directly at the young man. "When in any single moment of your life have you not been in any danger at all, Mister Potter?" He beckoned Harry behind him and peered down the way they came. "I recognized a face. Greyback's men are here. Whether or not they have taken control here is unfathomable. They're probably searching for you."

"Why me?" Harry moaned quietly.

"You don't seriously believe that this is only about you, do you?" Snape asked. Harry turned to look at the man and leaned against the wall, staring at him. "You do, Mother of Merlin. Potter, the only reason Greyback wants you dead is to prove to the Wizarding World that you are a talentless child who defeated Voldemort on the backs of others. If you truly, truly wish to protect your friends and family, then you will cease your pathetic whimpering."

Snape glanced down the alley, looking for an alternative exit, when he noticed the men approach their hiding spot. Harry opened his mouth to ask what they should do when Snape's mouth closed on his. Panicked, Harry dropped the broom and pushed against Snape's chest only to have his hands covered by his old professor's, pinning him in an unrelenting grip. Harry tried to fight him off and Snape bit down painfully on Harry's lip, drawing blood. When he attempted to scream, Snape took his tongue in between his teeth as well. Harry shut his eyes, tensing and bringing his shoulders together. Snape used that as an opportunity to pull the young man closer to him and roughly smashed Harry against the course bricks. They were crushed like that- they were so close that Harry could feel the level heartbeat of the potions master steadily aligned with his own, and it scared him more than the taste of his own blood in his mouth.

Harry stilled as footsteps approached and stopped-his eyes shot open as he vainly attempted to see past Snape's face and hair. Snape's left hand moved up from Harry's to hold Harry's face, hiding it.

"Nothing here, just a couple of faggots," Harry didn't recognize the deep throaty voice, or maybe he couldn't actually pay attention to it with so much of his mind concentrating on Snape. His mind was screaming and his eyes were wide, staring into Snape's. The older man's eyes bore dangerously into Harry's, holding a silent threat of what would happen if Harry did anything to give them away. Harry relaxed, quietly showing that yes, he would do as Snape ordered and yes, he knew better than to argue at this critical moment in time.

"Huh. They're really going at it."

"Oh," another voice, higher pitched with a slight Irish accent, chimed in disgustedly. "What's it to you? Let's get a move on."

The throaty voice, the one who seemed interested-very dismaying to Harry's terror-stricken mind- in the activity he and Snape were portraying spoke up again. "Well, they're certainly getting in more action than I have in a long time." He paused. "From here... It doesn't look that bad."

"Oh, come off it!" The sound of a slap against clothes sounded, and the scuffle of boots walking away was heavenly to Harry. He attempted to slip away, but Snape still clamped his hard fingers around Harry and ground him against the wall. He slowly shook his head. After a few excruciating minutes, he relaxed and released Harry from him. He traversed the alley, checking the street through windows and crevices between buildings. Finally he reached the street. After scanning it quickly, he strode back to the stunned tangle of nerves called Harry Potter that was still frozen against the wall, exactly as he left him, a small outline of blood along his lips.

"Fetch the broom. They've moved on, and we should do the same."

Harry nodded and almost sluggishly picked up the broom and walked to Snape. The man led him to the street and up a few blocks. The pace was quick, but not suspicious. As they went on, Snape seemed to be studying each dwelling that they passed. It took Harry a moment to realize what he was doing and when he did, he felt a little ashamed. He too began looking at each house to see if it was currently inhabited or not. He put all of his attention to it; he was still aghast at what Snape had done to him in the alley, still confused, frightened, and feeling singled-out and overpowered.

He felt sick, and used; regardless to it being a necessary sacrifice in Snape's eyes, Harry couldn't help but be completely disgusted with himself, with letting Snape get away with it, for letting it happen so soon after Ginny... He glared after Snape; Harry hadn't felt this utterly hopeless since he was in School, and at this moment it was all Snape's fault.

Severus stopped and watched as a man and woman left their home, closing the wards behind themselves before extinguishing a lantern on their porch and apparating away. Harry glanced up and down the street; besides the two of them, it was deserted. Snape grabbed Harry's shirt sleeve and dragged him across the street to the couple's house. With a sharp wave of his wand, Snape broke down whatever protective charm the family had on the house and shoved Harry through the door before closing it silently behind them.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked, looking around the living area, trying to figure out why Snape would bring them here.

"This," Snape held up a bowl of floo powder. "Get over here, Potter."

"When do I get some answers, Snape?" Harry asked in return.

"When I am certain packs of werewolves won't be breaking down the door. Now, get over here." Snape said stiffly.

Harry stared at Snape for a few seconds before heading to him. "What's the address?" Harry asked, walking into the fireplace.

Snape gave Harry a sour looking smirk; he took a handful of the powder before stepping into the fireplace next to him. Snape grabbed hold of Harry's shirt again. "Anguisis Hold." Snape hissed, and dropped the floo powder to the floor and they were both engulfed in flames.


	2. Meet the Snapes

Chapter Two: Meet the Snapes

Day Two

08:15

Hundreds of fireplaces zoomed in front of them and Harry's stomach began to churn. He wasn't sure if it was from the floo or from the physical assault from Snape in the alley, but he was sure he was going to be sick. Snape tightly held the back of Harry's shirt, keeping him steady and on his feet. His stomach lurched and Harry covered his mouth with his hand just as Snape pushed him through an exit; Harry toppled onto a black and green rug gasping and choking for air, while Snape merely stepped out of the place with as much elegance as he had entered it. Sneering down at Harry, he grabbed the Gryffindor alumni and hauled him up.

"If you think you can handle it, Mister Potter, I would appreciate it if you kept the theatrics for when you were alone. These people will have no tolerance for your foolishness." Severus said darkly into Harry's ear.

"These people?" A smooth and feminine voice asked. Harry looked around and saw a very thin, tall woman with jet black hair standing in the doorway of the room they currently stood in. She was pale, not nearly as pale as Snape but pale enough to make Harry wonder if she had ever lived under a rock. "Is that the way you speak of family, Severus?" She asked coolly, a small smirk graced her nearly flawless face. She looked like an older woman, probably a few years older than Snape, but still held a glint of youth in her bright blue eyes. "I'd think you'd be a little choosier with your description of us, Nephew."

"Indeed, Aunt Allora." Severus said shortly, "I have several words I could use to describe you, given the time and patience necessary to say them all in one sitting."

The woman grinned, "You're too kind, Severus."

"I wish it were so." Severus replied, "Is Thane here?"

"He went to the market- I needed some things. He should be back by dinner. You should stay. Your friend is welcome as well, of course."

Snape looked down his nose at Harry, who gave a cheeky grin in return. "Yeah, Severus-why don't you stay? Catch up with Aunt Allora." He didn't know why, but the thought of Snape having a family seemed sort of comedic to him. Plus, if Harry could get a meal and a shower out of watching Snape's skin crawl, it would be worth it.

"Is the back room still reserved for guests?"

Severus didn't receive an answer just then, for the door to their right burst open and a small blur of black shot right past Harry and Snape to Allora.

"Grandmother! You wouldn't believe what Amelie has done now! Go on!"

"What is going on here?!"

Both Severus and the little boy were pointing at each other, glaring expectantly at Allora, and both realized it at the same moment and grimaced identically. A flash of a memory sprang up in Harry's mind and he was reminded of the child Snape cowering in a corner. This black-robed boy was the spitting image of his greasy potions master- less greasy, granted, but the child still had the long black hair and crooked nose, and thin gangly limbs that seemed too long for a young boy.

"You have a son?" Harry asked incredulously.

Snape and mini-Snape both turned and glared at Harry and as Snape opened his mouth to retort the young boy screeched. "He is not my father!"

The door was ploughed through again; this time a blonde streak came into focus. "Whatever that greasy little git says, don't believe hi- Oh hello!" Her fiery temperament quickly changed to one of sweetness and civility. "I didn't know we had company, Nana." She sidled backwards to the door and clasped it shut, keeping a bright and clear smile pointed towards Snape and Harry.

This girl, Amelie supposedly, seemed very near Harry's age and very out of place in this house of Snapes. She had brilliant blue eyes and sunny blonde hair, full lips and an apparently boisterous personality. Harry couldn't help but feel as if mini-Snape was very right in trying to tell her out; she was definitely hiding something.

Allora automatically seemed to take control of the situation. "Amelie, don't call your brother names; what did she do, Dorian? And Severus, you needn't ask; you know you're always welcome to your room here."

Amelie had been looking at Harry curiously meanwhile and finally opened her mouth to say, "What's Harry bleeding Potter doing here?"

"That is not Harry Potter, and Grandmother- she's hiding a boy in her room. And..." Here he crossed his arms across his chest. "Not just any boy." Mini-Snape pulled himself to his full height, raised an eyebrow, and seemed to look down at everyone, waiting for someone to pick up his cue.

"I do not!" Shrieked Amelie, lividly. "What are you doing in my room anyway?" Dorian ignored his sister completely.

Allora sighed. "Yes; that is Harry Potter, Dorian, and what boy-" she turned to glare at Amelie at the word boy-"is in her room?"

Mini-Snape looked incredibly pleased with himself. "A Mister Draco Malfoy is stashed under Sister's bed," he replied. Now that that secret was out, he turned back to the fireplace to glare at Elder-Snape. Harry tried to stifle a giggle behind his hand. Snape abruptly smacked him across the back of his head.

"Oh dear," Allora said, frowning at Amelie, "Why don't you go and make some tea," she said slowly, as if trying to decide who she should start with.

Amelie pouted, tearing her eyes away from Harry to spare a glare at her brother before heading for what Harry could only assume was the kitchen. Dorian had stopped glaring at Severus and was now standing in front of the man, looking up at him. Large-Snape hadn't noticed the boy until the last moment and Harry snorted as the man's eye began to twitch.

"What is this?" He asked his Aunt again, much more slowly now; in case the child chose to attack him suddenly.

"Oh how silly of me!" Allora said, smiling now. "Severus, meet Dorian, Brandon's son. Dorian this is your cousin, Severus Snape."

Severus didn't seem to believe Allora, in Harry's perspective, since he continued to look back and forth between the older woman and the boy. "Brandon is capable of reproduction?" Severus asked finally and quite softly. Harry thought he might have been afraid of the boy- what with how he was reaching for his wand.

"Everyone is capable of reproduction." Allora said, waving Dorian to stand by her.

"I assumed he had been castrated after my last visit." Severus said honestly, giving his Aunt a quick smile.

Allora laughed. "You'd have hoped so wouldn't you, Severus? But really they are usually the most well mannered children. I think the new war fiasco might be going to their heads. You know; you were the last person I'd have thought to see come out of my fireplace Severus." She spoke the last bit softly, running her fingers through Dorian's hair and giving her nephew a small smile. "It's been so long. Here I had begun to think you'd forgotten all about us."

Severus didn't reply to the unspoken inquiry as to why he hadn't come back since he had broken free of his own father, he just nodded slowly, "We won't be staying long. I need only enough time to devise a plan of action."

"Of course," She said softly, pushing Dorian off to the kitchen, "I'll have Amelie make up something to eat while you and Mister Potter get settled. I'm sure it's been a rough journey; once I get the grandchildren situated we'll have a nice long chat. I've still got your favourite tea." She added with a grin.

"It's my tea!" Shouted Dorian from the kitchen, the mini-Snape had obviously been listening in on the adult conversation.

"You'll share or you won't get any!" Allora shouted back, casting another look at Severus. "I really should take care of them, I have no idea where Nara is. You know the way to the room. And don't be long, just a quick shower and a change of clothes will do just fine."

"Yes, Aunt." Severus replied, watching her leave the room. He then turned to Harry. "You will not speak to any of them," he said quietly. "Under any circumstances, do you understand me, Potter?"

Harry considered all the things he could say to Snape right now. He could comment on how he nearly killed a kid for looking at him, or how he lovingly reminisced with his Aunt Allora. But decided a simple: "Whatcha think Malfoy's doing under your cousin's bed?" would suffice.

Snape sneered at Harry before stalking off down a separate hall to his left and slamming a door behind him. Harry looked around the room, weighing his options. There was a bowl of floo powder sitting on the mantle, and he considered using it to get to the Burrow. Allora had mentioned that the 'new war' had the kids wound up, and Snape had said England was one of the first countries to fall. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, unable to make a final choice he sat down in a deep forest green chair. It reminded him of the overgrown chairs that decorated Gryffindor Tower.

Harry rubbed his hands over his face and leaned back in the cushioning, pulling at his hair. This was the single most horrible day of his entire life. It trumped Sirius dying, and Cedric, it surpassed the gut wrenching feeling of watching Dumbledore fall over the battlements. His chest ached painfully and the overpowering feeling of sorrow and guilt surrounded him. Several tears escaped his clenched eyes and Harry let out a shaky gasp.

"You can't sit there." Mini-Snape was back, holding a tray of tea and standing in front of Harry. Dorian set the tray on the table and folded his arms, looking at Harry through those oddly familiar obsidian eyes. "That's Grandfather Thane's chair; no one is allowed to sit in it but him. However, you might not get in too much trouble if Grandmother sees you crying like that."

Dorian knelt to the tray and poured two glasses of tea, Harry noticed that he hadn't brought along any cream or sugar. "Why are you crying, Potter?" Mini-Snape asked, handing Harry a cup.

Harry wiped at his eyes and took the tea. "My wife...Ginny, was murdered last night." Harry said softly, looking down at his cup.

"Hmm," Mini-Snape nodded, "That seems alright to cry about, I suppose, if you had to cry. Do you think she'd be crying right now? I don't, not if you cry. My mother cries sometimes, when sad things happen. Like when Greyback killed all those people at the Ministry of Magic in England and took over everyone- But my father doesn't cry, see? It's like that."

"Is it?" Harry asked hoarsely; wondering if Mister Weasley and Percy had gotten out alright.

"Yes, I do believe it is. Of course, she wouldn't want to die, no one really does do they?" He sipped at his tea and set it back on the tray. "And a few tears are appropriate for such a depressing occasion. I am Dorian Snape." He held out a hand to Harry.

Harry leaned forward and set the cup down before taking the boy's hand.

"I'm eight; I'll be nine soon though." He sipped at his tea again, looking at Harry, waiting for him to keep up with the conversation.

"You'll be going to a Wizarding School soon then won't you?" Harry asked, staring into the fireplace.

"Not likely, when you and that man who thinks he's a part of my family die there will be no one left to fight will there?" Mini-Snape said, "I'll probably lose my parents or something equally depressing as your wife dying. And then I'll be forced to be a werewolf and eat muggles." The boy was frowning, but Harry recognized the glint of mischief in his eye.

Harry shook his head, "When we die? Thanks for all the support, mate."

Dorian snorted into his tea cup, "Well you really don't expect to survive by crying, do you?" Dorian asked. "If it were me, I'd kick his arse and then cry later- when no one could walk in and see. If Sister was the one who saw you; she'd have called you names."

"Is that so?" Harry asked, trying to hide his sour look. The tea was too bitter for Harry's taste, and the boy noticed. Mini-Snape stood up and snatched the cup from Harry.

"If you don't like it don't drink it," he said, pouting. "I knew Grandmother should have given you the other stuff. This is special tea, Potter. You're obviously not special enough to drink it."

Harry laughed, nodding. "I guess you're right," Harry slid down to sit on the floor with Dorian. "You can call me Harry."

"You can call me Mister Snape, Mister Potter," Dorian said smoothly, drinking the rest of his cup and then starting on Harry's. His eye's never left Harry's as he placed the cup down on the tray and grinned.

"Your face looks funny, like I stabbed you with a fork."

Harry straightened his back, he was right to think this boy was in fact mini-Snape. The boy had the most odd and practiced talent of putting someone down without saying anything outright.

"One could only hope." Speak of the devil, Harry turned on his knees to see Large-Snape standing in the hall, looking down his nose at the both of them. He had changed out of his ragged robe and washed himself of the dried blood. "Potter, leave the boy alone and clean yourself up. My aunt will no doubt wish to speak with you as well."

"He was crying," Dorian plainly stated, drinking more of the tea. "His wife is dead you know?"

"I was aware," Severus murmured darkly. "You would do well to leave him alone about it."

"Why, because you say so? I don't have to listen to you." Mini-Snape sneered at the older Snape and received an identical glare in return.

"Now, now!" Allora came into the room with a plate of sandwiches, "My boy's aren't tossing their glares at each other now are they?" She asked Harry, giving him a smile.

"How did you know?" Harry asked her, grinning.

She smirked slyly at Harry. "Dorian has always reminded me of Severus when he was a child."

"That is none of Mister Potter's business, Aunt," Snape spat suddenly.

"Always the secret keeper, Severus, something Dorian sadly has not picked up on as of yet." The older woman turned to the boy and smiled. It was apparent to Harry that she was not a Snape by blood. She doted on her grandchildren and Severus in a way that surprised Harry; sure, he never pictured Snape having a family at all, but if he had they would not have been like this.

"Potter," Snape's voice sliced through Harry's thoughts. "The room down the hall is there for your disposal. Clean yourself up, now."

"He's not yours to do with as you please, Cousin." Dorian said. "I was having tea with him. Until I am finished, he is mine."

Harry looked from Severus to Dorian and back again. The older man seemed to become livid.

"Aunt Allora!" Snape shouted, pointing a long thin finger at the child. "Do something about that insolent beast or I will!"

"Dorian, why don't you go back home and fetch Mr. Malfoy." Allora said, holding her hand up to silence Severus. "Have him come over here, and fetch your mother while you're about it, will you? I'm sure she'll want to meet the only man to knock your father out of a tree with mere words."

Dorian pouted, but did what he was told and got up from the floor and left the house, slamming the door behind him.

"Severus, drink some tea and relax." Allora walked over and placed a hand on her nephew's shoulder. They were nearly the same height; Severus might have been an inch taller. "Dorian isn't too terrible once you get to know him. I know it must be a terrible shock, not being the baby anymore."

Harry laughed. He covered his mouth but it didn't help. The idea of Snape being 'the baby' was purely hysterical in Harry's mind. Snape's dislike for the little boy made so much more since now. Severus was angry that he wasn't the apple of his family's eye. Harry gasped between fits of laughter, holding his stomach.

"What's wrong with him?" Amelie asked, having walked in at the sound of Harry's laugh.

"His wife is dead." Snape said loudly, hoping to get Harry to shut up.

"That's horrible." Amelie said in a quite whisper. "Who's the man, Nana?"

Allora chuckled. "He is your cousin, Severus. Severus this is Amelie, Dorian's sister."

Severus narrowed his eyes, ignoring his family, and continued to watch Potter until the pint-sized idiot was subdued to giggling on the floor. He didn't know whether to be angry at his aunt for making fun of him; angry at Potter for laughing; or angry at Dorian for pointing out that Potter did not belong to him. As if he would want ownership over the pompous idiot.

Harry skipped breakfast, opting to sit in the shower stall and let the freezing water try to drown him. It had been interesting, sure; meeting Snape's aunt, niece and nephew. But the moment the adrenaline stopped running and he had time to calm down, Harry was deep in a dark void.

He wrapped his arms around himself and laid his head back against the cold porcelain shower wall. In his mind he replayed the past three years. He thought of Ginny, of how her hair smelled like sunbeams and how her laugh sounded. Tears streamed down his face, and he cried. Harry didn't bother wiping them away.

More than being heartbroken and lost; Harry was worried- worried about Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys. He knew they could take care of themselves, or at least he thought they could. If Mr. Weasley and Percy were at work when Greyback attacked then they could be in whatever prison Snape had escaped from, if they were still alive at all.

Harry slammed his fist into the shower wall, cursing at how hopeless it all seemed when the bathroom door opened. Harry jumped to his feet. "Who's there?"

"It is I, Potter." Snape's voice came from behind the shower door. "Get out of the damn shower. I assume you're going to want to be present when my uncle returns."

"Merlin, Snape!" Harry shouted. "You could have knocked! I'm bleeding naked in here!"

Harry listened as Snape turned on the sink, ignoring his shouts completely. "I've procured new robes for you, Potter. You will thank my aunt when you decide to grace us with your presence."

"Get out!"

"I also demand that you do not associate with Amelia and Dorian."

"For the love of- Let me shower in peace!"

"Mr. Malfoy will be joining us and you are to be as civil as you possibly can. Do you understand, Potter?"

"Snape!" Harry slammed the shower door open and stood in front of Snape naked as the day he was born. "Get the fuck out of the bathroom!"

Severus turned from the mirror and smirked at Harry. "You have thirty minutes, Potter, before you will be expected for tea in the garden. Do your best to please Allora or you will suffer my wrath." Severus turned and walked from the bathroom, leaving Harry dripping and gaping after him in the bathroom.

Harry cursed and wrapped a towel around his waist. It was as if Snape went out of his way to piss Harry off. Every time Harry was grieving or worrying about the Weasleys Snape would yell at him, or walk into the bathroom while Harry was showering or- or-or _kiss_ him.

Harry looked at himself in the mirror, lifting a hand to his lips. Harry could still feel the man's lips pressed hard against his own. He could feel Severus's body slammed up against his own, Snape's teeth biting down on his lips. Harry shuddered and put his hands on the counter, his eyes fell on his wedding band and Harry wondered what Ginny would say if she could see him now. Would she be angry? Or understanding? Would it have been different, if he had died and she had lived? Why was he feeling like this? Was he really attracted to Snape, or was it merely the stress of the situation? People did crazy things under pressure.

But it hadn't been his first time with Snape, had it? He shut his eyes tight, trying to forget. It had been an accident, occlumency had been a trying experience as it was- then getting drunk and caught by Snape when he had tried to skip a lesson... well, the result had surprised them both and ended his extra lessons immediately. Not that he could have told anyone the real reason for why Snape had tossed him out on his ass. No one would believe that the boy-who-lived had thrown himself at his professor, especially not _that_ professor.

He shook his head at the thought; banishing it from his mind. It was no use. Ginny was dead, nothing Harry could do would bring her back. Harry moved into the main bedroom and took a moment to look around.

The walls were plain, with no pictures and no posters. It was hard to believe that a child of any kind had stayed here. The king sized bed was in the middle of the room covered in a dark green comforter with only two pillows. The only other furniture in the room was an oak desk and bureau. It was definitely not a room a child would have lived in. Even when Harry was living in the cupboard under the stairs he decorated it. There was a chance Allora and Thane got rid of anything Snape had in the room, or that Severus was never over enough to decorate it.

Lying on the bed was a plain black robe-suit with enough tiny silver buttons to make Harry believe it actually belonged to Severus but was re-sized for Harry. He didn't like it; Harry hadn't worn black robes since he was in School, and liked his cloths to have a little more personality. Harry pursed his lips, looking down at the robes before reaching for his wand. Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember the spells he saw Hermione use last year to keep changing the colour of Teddy's sweater. It always drove the infant into crazy fits of laughter.

Harry changed the robes to a dark maroon colour before putting them on and going back to the mirror in the bathroom. He didn't look too bad, all things considered, besides Harry's unruly hair- which never lay right, and the aura of tight fatigue clinging to him...

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"What's taking you so long, Potter?" Harry turned to the bathroom door where Mini-Snape stood with his arms crossed against his chest. "You've been in here for hours, did you know? You missed Mother yelling at Sister. I wanted you to watch."

Harry smiled down at Dorian. "I'm not allowed to talk to you, did you know? Severus says so." He replied.

Dorian smirked, "Do you always do what he says?"

"Quite the contrary; I never do what he says," Harry said with a grin.

"Good," Dorian grabbed Harry's hand and led him from the room. "Grandmother is going to keep Draco Malfoy here, so he and Sister don't do things they shouldn't."

"How does Malfoy know your sister?" Harry asked, following Dorian.

"They've been engaged for years." Dorian said, shaking his head. "His Mother and my Mother, Nara- that's Mother's name, like to go to parties together; that's why he's going to marry Sister. And because they're both pureblood, purebloods are only allowed to marry purebloods."

"That's not true," Harry began as they stopped in the living room, "I'm a half-blood and Ginny was a pureblood."

"Is that why she died?"

"No." Harry said harshly, taking his hand away from the boy. "That is not why she died."

"Hmm... If you say so." Dorian took Harry's hand back. "Lunch is in the garden."

Harry let Dorian lead him through the kitchen and out the back where Allora was entertaining. "I've got him!" Dorian announced and the group of Snapes, plus Malfoy, turned to them.

It was odd, seeing them grouped together like that. Unfair that Snape could be here with his family live and well, while Harry's could very well be dying in some hole-in-the-ground-prison. Harry tried to stifle the anger; it wasn't the Snape's fault that wherever it is that they were hadn't yet fallen under Greyback's control. Nor was it Severus Snape's fault that Ginny had died.

"So you're the famous Harry Potter? I'm Nara." A blonde woman rose from a seat adjacent to Allora's and offered her hand for Harry to kiss. "Please, have a seat and dine with us." She gracefully sank back into her chair, satin skirts bustling and cascading about her. The family resemblance between her and her daughter was uncanny; now how did this woman give birth to the second Snape?

"I see you've survived the werewolves so far, Potter," Malfoy said, giving Harry a nod from over his cup of tea in some sort of 'let's call a truce while in front of the hosts salute'.

"Is that what we're running from? A bunch of werewolves?" Harry asked, "You said you were going to explain when we got somewhere safe, Snape. So how about some explanations."

Allora clucked her tongue, shaking her head as to tell them that it wouldn't be discussed in front of Dorian. "Why don't you have something to eat, Mr. Potter? Severus tells me that you haven't had time to stop to eat; you must be absolutely famished."

"I don't mean to be rude, Mrs. Snape-"

"Then don't be." She said sharply, "Thane will be back before you know it and you can devise a plan to save the wizarding world on a full stomach."

Dorian snorted. "Doubtful, Grandmother, very doubtful."

Harry glared down at the young Snape as the boy moved onto the terrace to take his place at the luncheon table. A small banquet had been served up while Harry was trying to drown himself; a vast array of sophisticated foods and drink were spread in an rather artistic sort of way over a lovely white lace table cloth. Draco was sitting across from his fiancee at one end of the table, giving his back to Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived decided to keep himself as far from Malfoy as he could and took the head seat, which was still unoccupied.

"You can't sit there; that's Grandfather's," Dorian scolded, and motioned for Harry to sit next to him. "Come over here, before you get into anymore trouble, Mister Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. These two particular Snapes would be the death of him. "Yes, Dorian," he replied curtly before moving.

"It's Mister Snape to you, Mister Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes again. Of course it was. Harry looked over to see who had taken place in the other chair next to him. Naturally it was the regular Big Snape, and he was glaring.

"Ahoy!"

A man scaled over the garden wall and stormed to their table. He stuck out like a sore thumb in this gathering of Victorian pallor; he had a healthy tan and dark, sun-streaked hair cropped to his ears and a masculine build. Harry managed to just catch a spat curse from Snape's mouth as the newcomer sat down, throwing his feet on an opposing chair.

"There's a stranger in our midst," Brandon said jovially, winking at Harry.

"Yes, love. That is the famous Mister Harry Potter." Nara poured cream into a teacup and passed it to her husband. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Yes; fascinating," echoed Brandon moving his eyes as if he were sizing Harry up. "And who is this stranger you've brought with you?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle a little at Snape's expense. Dorian smirked at the table as well.

"Hello Mrs. Potter," Brandon raised his cup in toast. "You're looking lovely today."

Dorian spat his tea out and hid under the tablecloth in a fit of giggles while Snape slammed his cup on the table.

"Brandon!" Nara admonished her spouse. In the corner Allora snickered softly into her hand.

"You're right Nara. I apologise." Brandon turned to Snape with a face the epitome of sincerity. Snape's ferocity didn't waver for a moment.

Brandon leaned over the table and cupped his hand over Harry's and whispered loudly. "I didn't mean to poke fun at the old bird's plain appearance; we all know why you married her. The hanky panky."

Snape lunged across the table, his hands circling Brandon's neck as the two men fell onto the ground, dragging half the full tablecloth with them.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Snape screamed lividly into Brandon's face. The bulky man managed to bloody Severus' face with his fist, despite the unrelenting choke-hold he was in. The women were all shouting now, and Dorian watched placidly from underneath the table. No one seemed to notice as another figure approached the scene.

Thane was a tall man, thin and lanky, much like Severus. His long midnight black hair had ghosts of grey and was unbound; his dark eyes glared fiercely at the two grown men wrestling on the terrace floor. He even wore the long dark robes of a dignitary. Harry could finally see at least one of Snape's relatives actually being related to the man. Though an unfair assessment that may be; he didn't really see how he could be related to Petunia either.

"Enough!" The older wizard bellowed, his voice echoing like thunder.

And much to Harry's surprise, both Snapes paused immediately in their efforts to murder the other. Even if Snapes' hands were still at Brandon's throat and Brandon in mid cuff, their eyes were on Elder Snape. This, Harry thought, must be Thane Snape.

"So, Potter- where's the girlfriend anyway? Papers had you two in Barcelona for the honeymoon," Malfoy said, pouring himself another cup of tea.

"Oh, she's dead," Dorian answered smartly.


	3. Snape Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

A/N: Thanks so much for the follows and the reviews! I love reviews so much and I just wanted to make sure you lot know that I'll respond to anyone who reviews while signed in via PM. So if you have any questions or comments about the story, please feel free to ask away. There's nothing more than a little snogging in this chapter, but in the next I can promise an escalation. This is mostly plot, hopefully enjoyable plot though.

Chapter Three: Snape Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Day Two

14:00

Harry had immediately locked himself in the room after escaping the disaster that was 'lunch.' He locked the door so that Mini-Snape couldn't get in and then barricaded himself in the bathroom so that Big-Snape couldn't bother him. He couldn't get ahold of what was happening; no matter how many different ways he went at it he couldn't wrap his mind around any of the events that had transpired in the past thirty hours. Two days ago he was on the beach with his new wife, doing his best to make new babies and now he was sitting in Snape's bathroom, widowed, waiting to find out what had made the world turn upside down.

A light knocking at the door had Harry jumping to his feet. "What do you want Snape?! Can't I use the bloody toilet in peace?"

"I apologise, Potter," was Draco's- not Snape's- soft reply, "I just wanted to say sorry, for earlier. It wasn't very tactful of me. I also wanted to give you my condolences."

Harry yanked open the bathroom door and glared at the Slytherin. "What do you care, anyway?" Harry demanded. "'It isn't like you had anything to do with it, did you Malfoy?"

"I realize that you're grieving right now, so I won't point out that I've paid my debt to society." Draco's face remained stoic despite the emotional tension. "I also have a message from Snape."

"Yeah, well you can go tell Snape to bugger off." Harry snapped at the blonde. "I don't want to hear anything else from him, unless he's explaining why the hell I'm... wherever the hell I am... Where am I anyway, Malfoy?"

Draco blinked several times before shaking his head. "Mount Ziel," he answered and at Harry's dumbfounded look he continued. "Australia, Potter."

"Australia?!" Harry exclaimed. "What the bloody hell are we doing here?"

"Well it's safe, for one. Europe's all but fallen to Greyback; he'll probably send some lackeys to the States after you- I don't suspect anyone will think to look out here. Merlin, Potter, loads of people forget there are even Wizarding communities this far out." Draco looked incredibly uncomfortable, having explained this to Harry in the most civil tone he had in his arsenal. His mother would be proud.

"Do you know what the plan is?" Harry asked him. "Are there any ministries that are going to fight to stop him?"

"Greyback moves like a poison- straight to the heart of each government his people access. There's no stopping him, Potter." Draco spoke solemnly. "That's why I fled here, so that if he did head this way I could at least be here for Amelia. She grew up sheltered from the Dark Lord. Though they are pure blood activists, her family wanted nothing to do with killing muggles and muggleborns. She wouldn't know up from down if the manor was attacked."

"I see," Harry said, knowing that it didn't matter how much you knew or how good you were, even Greyback's associates were powerful wizards. "So what is it he wants?"

"Apparently this is how you stop the abuse of werewolf civil liberties," Draco said sourly. "Make everyone a werewolf."

"What? Are you serious?" Harry gaped, moving from the bathroom to the bed and sitting down. His legs were so weak he didn't think they could hold him up for much longer. "So everyone in those prisons?"

"He's just waiting for the full moon, Harry. Snape told Amelia's grandmother that he was keeping them in cages with two or more werewolves. He's going to force them to turn millions of people into werewolves, and if they don't survive the attack then it's just part of some sort of natural selection. He had caught Snape, you know."

Harry nodded.

"Somehow Snape convinced Greyback that he could get you and turn you over for his own freedom, but when Greyback let Snape go, he immediately double-crossed the bastard and brought you here." Draco filled Harry in as quickly as he could, his eyes constantly moving to the door. He didn't catch the look of disbelief on Harry's face at his information. Snape cut a deal with Greyback?

"Look, Potter, you can't stay here with us for very long. Greyback will find you; he's out for your blood, and Snape's. It's the old days again, Harry. Everyone near you will be in danger- I won't place my family in that danger."

"I know," Harry said tightly. "My life's been in jeopardy too many times to count." Harry made a face like he'd eaten a particularly bitter pickle. "The only constant has been one big, greasy git at my back. I'm sure he'll know what to bloody do." Like turn Harry in on a silver platter to the big, bad wolf.

"All the same, Potter, you need to have a back-up plan. Snape can't do everything for you; you need to pull your own weight."

"I'm aware, Malfoy," Harry replied steadily. "That mangy sod has my family and I am going to get them back, even if that means tramping all about Europe looking for them and killing every last goddamn werewolf that stands in my way. I swear on Dumbledore that I will rescue them. I owe them that..."

Draco nodded, took a deep breath and wet his lips. "Right; you're throwing your own life away for them... again. I'm going with you."

Harry blinked at Draco, taken aback by the offer. "Look, I'm sure we don't need someone else following us around and-"

"Dumbledore isn't waiting at King's Cross for you this time, Potter. We can't afford to lose. I'm going with you; you don't get to be the only hero anymore. This arse is threatening our way of life. Muggles are finding out about us, and if this continues they'll try something stupid- like using a bomb on innocent Wizarding communities."

"Wait, how do you know about bombs?" Harry asked.

"Know your enemy well." Draco sneered and moved back toward the door. "Once Nara takes Dorian and Amelia to bed we'll discuss what to do about Greyback with the others." That bit was said over his shoulder as he left the room.

"Huh," Harry said to himself in the empty room. He scratched the back of his head, thinking. "Would you believe that? Draco Malfoy- Hero of the wizarding world. Ron wouldn't believe it in a million years."

He felt a pang of guilt and a wave of fury at the thought of his friend. How was it he got to escape, yet Ron and Hermione and the others are forced to wait for the full moon for their unjust punishment? To have to wait and see if they even survive a night locked in a cage with a werewolf... He clenched his fists tightly and willed himself to be calm. He'd deal with this- just like he dealt with Voldemort, and then everything could go back to normal.

No, not normal. With Ginny gone, nothing would ever be normal again. How could he explain to Molly and Arthur that he had failed to protect their daughter from Greyback's men? How could he possibly look Ron in the eye knowing that she was dead because of him?

"Feeling sorry for yourself, Mister Potter?" Severus' snide voice brought Harry back to reality like a heavy brick. "How utterly unsurprising. Tell me Potter, is it helping?"

"Malfoy said you had to cut a deal to escape Greyback," Harry commented, ignoring the question. "Says you're working with him."

"He's right about one thing," Snape said coolly, his tone drawing Harry's complete attention. "I am working with Greyback."

"That's how you got out." Harry replied, nodding.

"Indeed." Snape's eyes stared into Harry's and the younger man refused to break eye contact, refused to back down. "How much have you gathered so far, Mister Potter?"

"Greyback is going to slaughter the Wizarding World on the next full moon, which starts in four days. He is keeping those he captures in cells with werewolves so that when they turn they'll massacre anyone in the same cell with them. He wants to kill me so no one will think he can be beat- I am the Boy-Who-Lived after all. After Nara takes the kids to bed we discuss the situation, and Malfoy wants in." Harry ticked off the key points of what he knew. Snape nodded, deciding that Harry knew enough to get by for the night. He strode to the door without additional conversation. Harry distinctly heard the man say over his shoulder.

"I will ask you only once more to steer clear of my relations, Potter. My family is of no concern to you and if you feel any debt to me for repeatedly rescuing your existence you will do well to honour this request."

"That's hard to do when they keep hunting me down," Harry complained. "What do you want me to do? Just sit around in bed all day waiting for you to handle me?"

Harry flushed the second he realized how that sounded, and what with Brandon's teasing Snape earlier, it was completely inappropriate.

Harry doubted that Severus would see anything funny about how he worded his question. But instead of giving Harry a threat, or retort, or insulting his father, Snape continued out the door- shutting it behind him softly. He heard the man from the other side of the hallway.

"Two hundred points from Gryffindor."

"What? No detention?" Harry spat out.

The door slammed open, spooking Harry enough to jump. "Perhaps in your sickest dreams, Potter."

And then he was gone again.

"Fuck me." Harry threw himself on the bed, mentally drained.

He sighed and laid back; it had been a long trip. The fight at the hotel room, the flight from Barcelona, meeting all the Snapes, just dealing with THE Snape all day; Harry was completely worn out. The shower had done its part in giving Harry a small burst of energy, but considering all the emotional and mental havoc he had been through, Harry had become entirely physically exhausted. Before he knew it he was drifting off to sleep.

The house was quiet. The sunlight was harsh, surreal in its quality. Harry's alarm clock went off and he rose from the bed to turn it off. As he did, the sun fell from the heavens and a blood moon silhouetted with the dark mark zenithed in a black sky. The bedroom door burst open, catching his attention. Harry moved toward the doorway. "Who's there?" He called. No answer was received, and he turned around to go back to bed. He lay down in sheets as green as the killing curse, and as he shut his eyes cold arms enveloped his naked form. Harry turned around, kissing unrelenting lips and pulling his lover on top of him. Hair curtained over his face and his breathing hitched as his legs were parted and Snape entered him.

22:30

Harry shot up in the bed, sweating. He let out a ragged breath and ran his hands through his hair, trying to fight the rising panic from his dream. The dream lingered in Harry's mind, haunting his nearly-awake state. Just as Harry started to leave the bed the door snapped open and Snape loomed in the frame, glaring at him.

Harry's body reacted instantly, jumping and bracing itself, and he fought against showing it. "What do you want, Snape?" He almost succeeded nonchalance.

Severus's eyes narrowed at the Gryffindor and he stepped into the room, "It's time, Potter." He arched a brow when Harry seemed to freeze at his words. "For the meeting, as we formerly discussed."

"Oh," Harry said, relaxing and blushing in the darkness. "Right. Alright; I'll be there in a minute."

Snape nodded. He was quite aware that he had caught the idiot doing something suspicious but decided that, as Potter's comfort was no concern to him, he really didn't care, so long as Potter didn't inconvenience his relations or, Merlin forbid, talk to them.

The potions master turned about, hasty to exit the room and its awkward occupant. Said occupant had stumbled out of bed wearing naught but shorts and, like a muggle, turned on the table lamp manually. Snape rolled his eyes. "You have three minutes, Potter."

"Uh-huh," Harry mumbled. Three? The man was mad!

Fifteen minutes later a decently dressed Boy-Who-Lived sat in the parlour next to a very menacing Severus Snape.

"You're late," he hissed through crooked teeth.

"And you're ugly." Harry spoke clearly and smiled pleasantly at Snape. "So," he said, turning to the others and accepting a cup of not-special tea. "What's the plan?"

"Our contacts have confirmed our thoughts: Greyback is tearing apart the States, convinced you're located there." Thane looked at Snape. "You did your part well."

"Of course I did," spat Snape. "I had so much practice during the last war."

"Tell us something we don't know," Harry grumbled, sinking further into his chair. The potions master scowled menacing at the young man; Harry either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Why don't you tell me what you do know first, so I can fill in the blanks," Brandon offered conversationally, but the jovial smile he wore told Harry he wasn't talking about Greyback.

"Don't bother," Malfoy said, strutting in. "What Potter doesn't know will fill volumes in your library."

The Snapes, save Severus, snickered to themselves and Harry just shot the blonde a death glare. "Real mature, Malfoy. Now if you don't mind, we grown-ups are trying to figure out how to save the world."

"Indeed," Thane affirmed, turning the (wizarding radio device) on to some light classical music. "From the looks of things, the three of you have only four days to free Europe, the States, and eliminate Greyback."

"We could just go straight for Greyback," Harry suggested.

"His followers won't fall apart without him, Potter." Severus said crossly, drinking a bit of the special tea. "They don't need Greyback for their plan; in fact I'm sure most of his loyalists would find his death to be most convenient."

"Everyone wants to be a dark lord," muttered Allora, stirring her tea more intensely than necessary.

"So it would seem," Snape dryly remarked. "We need to infiltrate his headquarters. Our first priority should be freeing what is left of the Order, we will have better odds at freeing the rest of the wizarding world with more numbers."

"Where's that?" Harry asked.

Snape made a face at him. "Have you not been paying any attention to the matter at hand?"

"The Ministry, Potter," Malfoy quickly informed him.

"Oh." Harry focused for a moment, then smiled.

"You can't possibly get into that building, it was hard enough when Fudge was minister," Thane scoffed.

"You need a different approach." Harry's grin broadened to maddening proportions.

"There isn't an alternative! Only an attack in the epicentre will break their forces. We must get into the Ministry." Snape looked at Harry. "Quit smiling like a loon! Is your own demise so entertaining to you?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I was just waiting for you to finish your conversation." Harry was positively beaming at Snape. He felt so perfectly smug for figuring out how to infiltrate Greyback's forces before that bastard Snape did.

"Spit it out, Potter. What do you know?"

Harry turned to Draco. "Malfoy, what do you do when you want to sneak in undetected?"

"What?" Draco blinked and tilted his head. "I... I don't know. I guess I would follow you,

Potter."

"Wrong!" Harry said. "You use a cupboard."

Draco's eyes lit up. "The vanishing cupboard!"

"Precisely," Harry leaned into the chair and folded his arms. "That is exactly right, Malfoy. Twenty points to Slytherin," he added cheekily.

"That's all very well and good, Potter, but we haven't got a vanishing cupboard." Snape sneered and settled his weight on his armrest.

"Yes we do," countered Harry.

"Where?" Thane's question came out more as a demand, and a very intimidating one.

"There is one in the Hogwarts Room of Requirement," said Draco. "I helped put it there."

"Its sister is in Arthur's jurisdiction in the Ministry. Kingsley took it in as evidence." Harry managed to not laugh outright as Snape bit his tongue and nodded his approval in silence. "All we need to do is get into Hogwarts."

"Apparating to the Forbidden Forest is easy enough. The wards will still be up, so the castle will be relatively safe." Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Well done, Potter."

"Thank you, Sna-"

A crackle from the radio effectively destJamesed every shred of mirth; everyone froze and looked anxiously at the device while the room became gripped in concrete fear.

"Greetings, Mister Potter." Greyback's rough voice broke the air like an axe chopping wood. Harry could tell by the tone that the werewolf was very pleased with himself. "I am quite disappointed with you Harry; I had planned to broadcast your death for the entire world tonight, yet it seems you have managed to slip away into the night with none other than that coward, Snape. I hope you are enjoying yourself. However, your freedom will be short lived."

Harry's fists clenched and he glared at the radio. Thane looked on curiously while Brandon exchanged worried looks with his wife and mother.

"What if he knows that Potter's here?" Malfoy whispered the question and was silenced by Severus' glare. But that was exactly what everyone in the room feared.

"Don't bother looking for my people, Mister Potter, as I have them doing better things then trying to hunt your worthless hide down. Besides, you will come to me willingly." He paused, probably smiling to himself. "I have a deal for you... For the next ten minutes the floo will be open for you to come in and surrender sensibly. If you do not surrender in that time I will kill one civilian, and for every hour that you do not turn yourself in I will kill another, and another. On the eve of the full moon, in four days, I will kill your in-laws, your School friends; anyone who has ever claimed to have known Harry Potter will not be given the chance to be a part of my new world order. Now, if any of you listening in to this broadcast decide to take it into your own hands and bring Mister Potter in, do not be surprised if you are rewarded for your troubles with... Let's say... The seized gold from the Malfoy accounts."

Harry could hear the werewolf's extreme pleasure in his raspy, thrice-damned, cutthroat voice. Harry knew that if he turned himself over to Greyback, the monster would kill his family and friends anyway, that running into the trap laid for him at the Ministry right now would only make everything so much worse. But even knowing this he had restrain himself from jumping up and going straight for the floo.

"If that bastard touches one galleon of my gold I'm going to crucify his dirty werewolf arse to the door of the Ministry." Draco seethed.

"Mister Malfoy!" Nara scolded. "You must learn to refrain from vulgarity. Besides, skinning and tailoring a pelt as a purse is always a pleasant, sophisticated manner in which we deal with a misbehaving animal."

"Aw, Nara my love..." Brandon took her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. She smiled pleasantly at her audience.

Harry stood and began to pace the room, keeping mindfully away from the fireplace.

"Tick-tock, Mister Potter," came Greyback's voice through the static. "Tick-tock..."

"I can't just stay here. I can't," Harry said, clenching and unclenching his fists. He rubbed his face. "They are expecting me to save them!" He shouted at Snape, who had stood, and moved to the fireplace to ensure that Harry didn't do something stupid.

"You can't save them, Potter. You are not a hero; you are a man." Snape replied slowly, keeping his voice level. His tone lacked its usual bite, but it was in no way kind or comforting to Harry. "He is going to kill whoever he must to show that to the world- that you are not their hero."

"So I should just let them die, Snape?! I just turn my back on them?" Harry demanded. "You might be a heartless monster who can let those he care about bite the dust, Snape, but I take care of what's mine!"

Snape's lip curled back ready to hurl an insult in a second when a woman's voice shouted over the speaker.

"Don't do it Harry!" She cried; it was Alicia Spinnet, from Harry's old quidditch team. Her voice seemed distant, so Harry knew she wasn't directly near whatever Greyback was yelling into. "Don't do it! Don't let him get to you! We believe in you Harry!"

"Oh... I do believe we have a volunteer. Grab her." Greyback sneered.

Harry grabbed the back of the chair Malfoy was sitting in, his eyes on the radio as he heard Fred and George Weasley in the background.

"Let go of her!" George shouted. There seemed to be a struggle and after a couple of spells were cast they could hear a cell door slam shut.

"Leave her alone you bastard!" Fred shouted, "Come on then, be a man why don't you? Got to attack women and children? Even Voldemort had more class than that!"

"Shut that fool up," Greyback hissed, "Believe in Harry Potter do you?"

"You don't scare us, Greyback." Alicia sneered, spitting at the monster. "Harry knows better than to fall for your little ploy, and the wizarding world will stand behind him, no matter what. He's defeated far better wizards tha—AHHH!" Her words were cut off and her screams echoed through the room. Over and over she wailed her pain. In the background you could hear people shouting for someone to stop him, screaming and thrashing at the bars of their cells.

Then there was silence followed by a soft thud and more silence.

"Merlin save us," Draco whispered, bowing his face into his hands. Harry didn't realize that in his distress his hands left the chair back to clench Malfoy's shoulders in their white-knuckled panic.

"One hour, Mister Potter." The soft classical symphony came back over the radio, ending Greyback's transmission.

"Are you happy now, Snape?" Harry asked softly, his voice teetering.

"You can't possibly believe I wanted Miss Spinnett dead," Snape said incredulously. "That's a jump, even for you, Potter."

"I should have gone! If I had-"

"Then you, Miss Spinnett and half the wizarding population would be dead." Snape sneered at Harry, crossing the room so that they were barely a foot apart- Snape glaring down at Harry, Harry snarling defiantly at his ex-potions professor. "Don't think for a moment to put this upon anyone but Greyback. Don't think for a second that anyone else is responsible for the lives that will be lost. You aren't nearly that important; you are merely a scapegoat for madmen. Under no circumstances will you turn yourself over to Greyback. I don't care if he resurrects your mother and holds her ransom- if you so much as look at the floo powder or have a fleeting thought of apparating to the Ministry or of- for some stupid reason- flying out of here, I will tie you down and leave you here while Mister Malfoy and myself stop Greyback from turning everyone into mangy, flee-bitten beasts. Do you understand me, Mister Potter?" Snape loomed over the young man in his most intimidating posture.

Harry stomped away from Snape, storming from the parlour with every intention of finding something solid he could hit without breaking anything else. Half-way to the room his body froze, his muscles locked and he was slammed against cold, mildly pretty wallpaper.

"You will never use your mother's death against me again, Potter." Snape seethed, his mouth was next to Harry's ear, sending chills down Harry's spine. "If you do so, I will not hesitate in permanently removing you from this world." He released the magical restraint on Harry. "That goes for the late headmaster as well." He made to move away then, but the Gryffindor wasn't done with him just yet and pushed Snape against the opposite wall.

"She's dead because of us!" Harry hissed loudly. "Because we did nothing but sit here while he killed her." He slammed a fist into the wall next to Snapes' head. The man didn't even flinch. "That's on us, Snape. I don't care what you say; it's on us. Every hour that we aren't there another innocent person is killed. How can you not feel that? How can you not care? Can you feel anything at all?" Harry's green eyes searched Severus' for the answer, but the spy betrayed nothing.

Harry's lips captured Snape's in a quick, sharp kiss. "Can you feel that, Snape?" Harry brokenly asked before pulling away.

"Ever the fool, Mister Potter," Snape drawled, roughly pushing Harry further off of him. "Her death is regrettable. Now return to the parlour. We have a war to plan." He left Harry in the hall, staring after him, emotions swirling around in the young man's head that he couldn't begin to comprehend. It was then that Harry realized that he could hardly think clearly.

But one thought did push forward in Harry's head, demanding his full attention as he slowly made his way back to the parlour...That _he _had kissed Snape.

"I saw that."

Harry whipped around quickly to see Dorian's head peek out from the staircase banister.

"Wha-? What are you doing up?" Harry's face managed a very particular sort of guilty crimson as Dorian walked the last three steps down and walked up to Harry, giving the Boy-Who-Lived his most disapproving glare.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Harry deadpanned, so the boy continued. "I'm getting a glass of water." He turned and started back up the stairs. "Oh," Dorian said, pausing. "That's a really bad plan. Good luck with it." Then he was out of sight.

Harry shook his head and moved statically back to what he now considered the war room.

"Why can't we just go to Hogwarts, get to the Vanishing Cabinet and head for the Ministry now? It's what..." Draco checked his solid gold, diamond encrusted Rolex, "Twelve thirty in the afternoon and I doubt that the guards on the place will lighten up at night."

"There will probably be more security at night, let's be reasonable." Brandon tagged on.

"You have to stay the night," Allora said, putting her hands on the back of Thane's chair. "Rest. I'll pack for everyone and when you wake you can go to Hogwarts."

"Potter has already rested, and though I'm sure Mister Malfoy has been exhausting himself hiding under a lady's bed, we haven't the time to waste on a damned nap."

Snape's aunt gave him a pointed look that said to Harry that she could care less about him or Malfoy.

Severus glared right back at her; Harry could see the muscle in his jaw clench.

"Four hours." Snape said tightly.

"Twelve." Allora replied.

"Do you want to be the next casualty of this war so badly, woman?" Snape snapped. "Six."

She merely smiled at his threat. "Nine,"

"Very well," Snape said.

"Alright. So what are you going to do once you get into the Ministry, Mister Potter?" Thane asked, "I believe that is where we left off before your debacle."


	4. Mad About Snape

A/N: Here it is, the long awaited (?) Snarry action. If you don't like it you can skip ahead. I'm not going to bold it out for you, you'll just have to use your pretty little eyes to figure it out. As always, please Review so I know you loved what you read. Thanks.

Chapter Four: Mad About Snape

Day Three

00:10

It was ten minutes into the new day and Harry knew that one more person was dead. Malfoy told him to try not to think about it, that he should concentrate on the good 'or whatever it is you Gryffindors do to get through the night.' As he made his way back to his room he prayed it wasn't Ron or Hermione. He didn't even know where they were when Greyback attacked. Had they been at their flat in Hogsmeade? Had they gone to the Burrow? Were they safe, or would he be burying more than just his wi-

"What the hell are you doing in my bed, Snape?" Harry demanded after entering the room he had been assigned before. Thank Merlin for a fatal distraction.

The wizard's left eye opened a crack, leering at the boy standing at the foot of the bed in question. "This is my bed, Potter," Snape sneered and pointed to a sofa with a pillow and blanket on it. "That is where you will stay. Now do me a favour and silence yourself."

"We can't sleep in the same room." Harry stated evenly, thoughts of his dream and of kissing Snape flooded his mind and he blushed fervently. Could Snape tell?

"Then go elsewhere, as your blundering reign of terror on these particular quarters has come to a most definite end." Snape sat up, inadvertently revealing his uncovered torso, showing off the wounds inflicted by Greyback and his men. Harry was shocked at the amount of bruising and mindlessly stared.

"You haven't been healed?!" Harry asked. "For Merlin's sake, Snape! We're supposed to be attacking Greyback tomorrow, and you're still slinking around with broken ribs?"

Snape looked down his naked chest and then glared at Harry. "Don't be thick Potter, I healed the fractures."

"So what do you call all that bruising?" Harry asked, pointing lividly at the man's chest.

The former Head of House narrowed his eyes at Harry, trying to decipher what exactly the idiot was trying to ask him. "I would call it bruising, Mister Potter."

"Why didn't you heal that? Aren't you sore?" Harry continued, "How can I count on you to be at the top of your game if you're hurt, Snape?"

The man rolled his eyes. "I am quite capable of functioning properly with these minor afflictions," he dryly remarked. "Rest assured that I will not be- What are you doing?"

He was caught unaware by Harry evading his personal space quite confidently, sitting down on the comforter still draped over Snape's legs. "I'm healing you." Harry said. "Accio pack." The bag that Ginny had sent him off with at the house rose from the corner and settled itself within Harry's reach. He pulled out a smart-smelling balm, opened it and lavished it onto his fingers. "Hold still," Harry instructed. Astonishingly, Snape complied, only pursing his lips and furrowing his eyebrows when the Gryffindor placed his hands on either side of him.

Harry glided his fingers over Snape's lean body thoroughly, gently, but thoroughly. He made sure not to miss an inch of the exposed white flesh. Honestly, Snape was so pale he made alabaster seem tan. And he had so many scars; Harry had never seen so many mars, freshly afflicted or old. There was hardly three inches unblemished on the man.

Harry shifted, so that he might cover Snape's back more easily. His palms were warm against Severus' skin, which seemed frigid all over.

"Are you cold?" Harry tentatively asked.

"Not unnecessarily so," came the indifferent reply. Harry's fingers dug in a little harder, attempting to massage some warmth into Severus' body. He reached out and grasped Snape's arm, rubbing the wrist in an attempt to aid the circulation. He palmed some balm, and traced over the lean muscles. His fingers grazed the Dark Mark, and he pulled the arm fore-arm up to look at the faded image. He completely missed the grimace etched on the potions master's face as he did so. Harry traced the barely discernable figure almost absentmindedly.

"It's been so long," he breathed out huskily.

"Not nearly as long as you'd assume." Snape tersely muttered, looking down at the folds in the blanket where he rested his free hand.

"I suppose not," Harry agreed, his voice heavy and near breaking. He had by now abandoned the salve and was just holding onto Snape like an anchor. "Thank you," he said. "I needed you so much then."

"You did." Snape sharply responded. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"I need you now," Harry hoarsely confessed.

Severus turned his head to look at the young man just as Harry tugged on his arm, pulling him forward and crushing Snape's mouth with his own. Snape's solid grip grasped onto Harry firmly, coolly returning Harry's desperate kiss with stoic affirmation. He parted his thin lips and the young man's tongue rushed forward to immediately ravish the open mouth. After a few heated moments, Snape's tongue pushed Harry out, ending the fevered rhythm between the two.

"Strip," Severus commanded. Harry hurriedly tore off his shirt, stood up and undid his pants. They pooled around his ankles and he kicked them off and pulled down his shorts clumsily. He was unaware of the level stare his way as Snape watched every move he made. As soon as he was sufficiently naked, Harry turned around to face the professor. He was decent enough to blush beneath the scrutiny of the older man, and he looked down at the slate gray carpet.

Sinuously, Snape leaned forward and offered his hand. Harry took it and was pulled into a harsh, bony caress. Severus manipulated their bodies so that he lay on top of the Gryffindor, pinning the boy's hands to the bed near his head in a vice-like grip. Harry looked plaintively up at the Slytherin, positively begging for the ministrations of the man. Snape lowered his head, his hair curtained their faces and gathered in pools on the pillows.

"I like your hair this long," Harry breathed.

"I like it when you shut up," remarked the professor, catching Harry's mouth in an angry kiss that left their lips swollen in its ferocity. Harry made to remove Severus' pants, but his hands were sharply slapped off and he was given an icy glare to match the icy hands.

"Don't make hasty presumptions, Mister Potter."

Harry was about to argue but didn't get the chance. Snape leant down and licked Harry's collarbone, reaching the crook of his neck and biting it harder than necessary. Harry released a small hiss of pain, but reached around and pulled the ex-death eater's head closer to himself. He needed the contact.

Snape retreated, and manoeuvered Harry onto his stomach. He pulled him up so that he stood on all fours on the mattress and then Harry heard the shuffling of material as Severus undressed behind him. He felt a gentle prodding at his opening before a slender, somewhat chilly finger pushed itself in and stretched him, wriggling inside him with purposeful strokes. _Snape's fingers were long!_ Harry thought, as he squirmed hungrily beneath the professor's assiduous movements. Snape pushed in another finger, stretching Harry that much more.

"Fffuuuck..." Harry moaned as he was opened, a strange fullness settling into him that was already setting him off. Who knew he could even be affected this way, and so strongly? Severus angled his fingers a bit and pushed them in as far as they could go, and that's how Harry discovered his prostate.

After unceremoniously bucking his hips towards Snape and opening his mouth to emit some rather carnal sounds, the potions master's fingers disappeared from Harry after scissoring a bit more determinedly, making sure the entrance was fully prepared.

Harry heard a few unknown syllables pass through Snape's lips and then he was efficiently lubricated with something comfortably warm. He held still as he felt Severus place one hand palm down on the small of his back and the other on his hip.

"Breath out slowly," Severus instructed. Harry did so, laying his head on a pillow and shutting his eyes. Snape pushed in a bit, the head of his manhood resting right in Harry's ring of muscles. It was uncomfortable and worrisome to the young man, but he bore through it, keeping even breathes. He was intruded further, and that's when it became painful.

After the guttural cry left his throat, Harry hung his head down, resting his forehead upon the pillow. Snape's pillow, he realized emotionlessly, on Snape's bed. Harry let out a prolonged grunt as the strong shaft sheathed into him fully. There was a pause then, the magnitude of which he found he understood. This was him, Harry Potter. This was what the Boy-Who-Lived grew up to be. This was what his life added up to. He held in a whimper then, so ashamed and so full of criticism for his actions and immature selfishness, yet still arrogant, still self-righteous, still the epicentre of everything. How funny it seemed that the apex of his life was being fucked by a greasy old git. He understood, alright. He let out a heavy breath, then looked over his shoulder.

"Well, Snape? Get on with it."

Harry wasn't disappointed. Snape leaned heavily on him, pulling back and insiduosly rolling his hips forward again to ram them against Harry harshly. It was cruel, almost. The pace was deliberate, the actions calculated. The was no passion here, no love, only a vicious, overpowering defiance between two lives so terribly intertwined within each other that they became, somewhere along the way, inseparable. Harry's breath soon became desperate as he matched the steady, rolling pace. His skin became flushed, and his eyes rolled up and closed. There was a sanctity for him here, as his orgasm began coiling within him and he broke into a light sweat.

"More, please," he gasped out. "Harder... Faster..."

"Don't you ever shut up?" Snape ground heatedly out through his teeth. He complied though, pushing harder, deeper thrusts into the hot, sweaty mess that had become Harry Potter. The young man moaned, arching his head back and sinking to his elbows. All eloquence had left him at this point, so he simply submitted himself to whatever it was that his old professor was doing to him, because whatever it was, it was wonderful.

At some instance, Severus' grip became tighter and his fingers dug into the younger wizard, plunging fervently into Harry's skin. Snape's long, bony hand wrapped around Harry's throbbing penis as he angled his thrusts to brush the other man's prostate, causing Harry to cry out loudly in bursts. His hands fisted in the pillows while Snape pummelled into him, repeatedly hitting the small bundle of nerves and driving the Gryffindor to mindless climax.

"S- Sna..Sev..eaa..Ah..russs..." Harry struggled for Severus' name, moaning and bucking wildly under the man. Harry had never experienced such pleasure; he thought he'd surely drown in it. Waves of fierce, vibrant ecstasy washed over him and he could remotely feel Snape jerk behind him, his nimble fingers grasping his unruly, black hair. He could hear the slight hitch in the breathing of the potions master as the man reached his own limit, driving deeply into Harry while emptying himself in quick spurts.

When it was done Snape cleaned them off with a swift spell and moved away from Harry. He peered unwaveringly at the young man. Attempting to gauge the Gryffindor's reaction was like trying to tell whether or not a land mine was active. He prayed Potter wasn't one for pillow talk, the only thing he hated more than pillow talk was criers.

Harry turned his back to Snape and lay for a moment, eyes closed in the aftershock. Harry felt the weight of his actions bear down on him, just as he had felt Snape's warm essence slipping out of him just moments ago. He was nearly ill, stricken with disgust over what he had just done and who he had just done it with. His wife wasn't even a week dead and he was begging to be fucked by his old potions professor, a man he had professed to hate many times over, who was supposed to be dead for years. What kind of a bastard did that make him?

Harry slipped out of the bed slowly, drying his eyes so that Snape couldn't have any ammunition against him. Going to the bathroom, he closed the door softly behind him. He turned on the shower, even though Snape had used a cleaning charm Harry still felt filthy. Harry put a silencing charm on the door and after throwing up he sat in the tub, scrubbing himself down and quietly sobbing.

Devious and dirty, that's what he had proven to be. Harry ceased his futile cleaning of himself and hung his head in his arms, sitting remorsefully beneath the hot spray of water. He stayed there for quite some time, noting with irony that he must never have been so clean in his life as he had been that day in the house of Snapes.

03:00

It was hours later that he finally emerged, nearly free of mania. He was mildly surprised to find Snape resting against the headboard, dozing. Harry dimmed the lights and escaped the room, looking behind him to watch the steady rise and fall of Snape's skinny chest, making sure that the man was truly asleep. He was probably exhausted, Harry realized. Just because he had rested didn't mean that the big bat had – he had probably gone out of his way to succumb to fatigue, the bastard.

Harry made his way down the stairs to the sitting room, his mind fraught with anxieties. He illuminated the room and sat down in Thane's lofty chair.

What should he do?

What could he do?

It seemed so daunting, all the potential answers to that simple question. He certainly couldn't sleep; he felt he'd suffocate if he remained stagnant with inaction.

He could leave. Make off into the night to save everyone. Once he got to Hogwarts he could infiltrate the ministry by himself, thus endangering no one in the process save his own hide. He'd leave this house, with its terrible secrets safely within it. He need never come back here again.

Yes; he needed to go. Now.

"You needn't be so moody. It isn't as if you've anything to hide."

Dorian appeared from the direction of the kitchen, bringing in, unnervingly, two cups of tea. The little boy quirked an eyebrow up and looked like he was coming to a very important decision. "Let me go get some sugar. I know you didn't like my tea very much, but you really should drink it. It's very good for you." Harry didn't bother arguing, and when Dorian returned with a proper tray he accepted the proffered cup.

"So... You and that man are sleeping together." Harry choked on his still too-bitter drink at the simple statement. "I suppose it can't be helped; we didn't have another spare bedroom. You had to share with somebody. I should have offered mine. I have bunk beds, you know. I would have let you have the top."

"Oh, thank you." Harry blushed a bit and sipped at his tea, grimacing at the harsh flavour of it. It was just as bad as the first cup, if not worse. This tea, whatever it was, truly tasted like poison.

"Drink it." Dorian commanded in that domineering Severus Snape-like tone of his, narrowing his eyes and drinking his from his own cup.

"I am," Harry said. "What are you doing up anyway?"

"I'm always awake at this time. Everyone else is asleep and won't bother me, so I can do as I like without interruption." Dorian finished his drink, placing the cup down daintily on the tray.

How like the git, Harry thought placidly, downing the rest of the special tea under Dorian's harsh glare. The boy's face softened then, making something almost like a... What is it called? A smile? Harry's thoughts turned sluggish then, which wasn't helping him at all while his perception took on a very peculiar haze.

Harry found himself falling into the chair as if in slow motion, and from his slanted angle, he watched Dorian sit up and walk to him. He felt small fingers run softly through his hair and saw piercing black eyes look straight into him. Snape's eyes… He tried getting up, tried to talk, but he couldn't move a muscle, let alone open his mouth properly.

"You can't go off running alone, Harry Potter," Dorian's gentle voice murmured. "Because you aren't alone. I'll marry you someday, when I'm all grown up. You'll see then."

Harry's last thought was that he couldn't possibly have heard that correctly, and so he slipped into uncomfortable, inescapable oblivion.

09:00

Brandon yawned, walking into his parent's house from the kitchen entrance to look for Dorian. The boy had snuck off in the night again and Nara worried. Not that she had anything to worry about; the kid may be young but he was a Snape. Snapes could take care of themselves just fine. He smiled to himself, whistling a short tune as he turned on the stove-top to make a new pot of tea- putting away Dorian's "special" tea in the cupboard. The kid was more like his cousin then his father, as much as Brandon hated to admit it.

Not that there was anything wrong with Severus, but Merlin's knickers, the guy was cold. Brandon shook his head. The Dark Lord was to blame for that, he was sure. The Dark Lord and Hogwarts changed Severus. Yes, the man had always been distant; cool, calculating and cunning, the younger of the two Snape boys wasn't what you'd call a social butterfly. But after Severus began attending Hogwarts, he had changed. Severus' visits became few and far between. The last time Brandon had laid eyes on his cousin was at his graduation ceremony at Hogwarts. Severus had disappeared into the crowd without so much as a 'good to see you' or 'thanks for coming'; he was just...gone.

Brandon had nearly wanted to embrace the man when he had come through the floo. Bloody and beaten as Severus was, he was just glad the man was alive. Brandon's mother always believed that he was still around, but seeing Severus in person after so long was something entirely different. When the word had come to the wizarding town they lived near that Severus had died with the Dark Lord, Brandon wished that it wasn't so. He had grown up with Severus and for the better part of his childhood Brandon had counted on that sneering git, whether it was to get him into, or even on occasion out of, trouble. It was a good thing he planned to repay his cousin by going with him. Poor bloke was going to need some real help if it was to be just him and two wayward youths trying to save the clock struck six and Brandon gave a passing thought to the six who were now dead at Greyback's hands. It was a pity that they really couldn't do anything more for them. But there was no use in dwelling.

He poured himself a cup of breakfast tea and went on his way to find Dorian. The kid had probably passed out in the library or in his father's study. Dorian had a yearning to know everything about everything, like another certain busybody Snape had had. He smiled to himself; fatherly pride for his son overwhelming him. His son was going to be great, of that he was sure.

Brandon stopped short in the parlour, blinking at the sight before him. His father was standing just a few feet away from his oversized chair glaring down at Dorian, who lay curled in the crook of Harry Potter's arm in the chair.

"Dorian," Thane began. "What are you doing in my chair?"

"It's all Mister Potter's fault." Dorian remarked casually, little chin held high and eyes unwavering.

"Of course it is." Thane turned to look at Severus who had just entered the room, fully dressed and setting two sacks on the ground near the doorway. "It's always the Potter boy's fault. Is there tea made?"

"Coming up!" Brandon dashed into the kitchen to retrieve the kettle. Thane gave a mild harrumph and set off for the silent and uninhabited garden. Alone with Dorian and what could pass for a log, Snape rolled his eyes then leered at the child nestled into the Golden Boy. The brat had the nerve to return the look, and even defiantly stick out his chin. Dorian smiled then, a predatory grin that should never grace the lips of one so young, and snuggled into Harry, pressing his head into Potter's chest. His eyes never left those of Severus', whose knuckles were now white and bloodless. When Brandon returned, the offered drink was snatched from his hands and Severus downed the hot tea swiftly. The audacity!

"Where is young Mister Malfoy?" Snape demanded.

"Behind you." Draco sauntered up to the small communion, winking mischievously in greeting. "Good morning everyone. Oh." He took a cup from the tray. "Tea. Yum."

"Aguamenti." A controlled fountain trickled from Severus' wand straight to Harry's face, who woke up sputtering.

"What...Wait-What?" Harry stood up and owlishly blinked around him, taking in his setting. Dorian waved one hand at him in a neutral hello. Harry turned around and pouted angrily at Severus Snape, a gentle blush tainting his cheeks as the professor pointedly ignored him and put his wand back in his robes. He could still _feel _the man inside him.

"Are we quite ready to embark?" Snape dryly questioned Draco and Harry. "I've taken the liberty of readying your bag for you, Mister Potter. I trust, Malfoy, that you were responsible enough to prepare yourself fully on your own?" The blonde nodded. "Good."

"Wait..." Harry groggily tried to come up with something to say, but was at a loss. He felt eerily like he had a hangover, and couldn't for the life of him figure out why the sun was up already. "You!" He spat, pointing at Dorian who sat coolly and collected on the chair with an elbow on the armrest and his legs crossed smartly. "You drugged me!"

Brandon's bark of laughter burst through the house profoundly. "Dorian!" He chided. "That just isn't fair! Snapes do not take advantage of witless, defenceless Gryffindors."

"Oh really?" Dorian queried arrogantly. "We don't?" He eyed Severus levelly, whose eyebrow twitched once in irritation. "But he was going to run away."

"Okay!" Harry cut in. "I need some breakfast. Have we anything ready to eat?"

Allora seemed to have a natural sense for timing, for she entered with a small cart with a tidy banquet of sensible eggs, croissants, bacon, and assorted fruit from the garden. "Eat up now, boys," she chirped joyfully.

"Thank you," Harry graciously said, grabbing some china and heaping it with food. The sooner everyone filled their plates, the sooner they'd all shut-up.

"Dizzy, blood?" Draco flashed Harry a smile as he bit into a fresh, buttery croissant. "You do look like you've been poisoned."

"Yeah..." Harry stuffed some eggs into his mouth in the hope that the additional protein would ease the throbbing in his head. "Feels like it too."

Severus put a rather lean amount of food on his plate, mainly bacon and fruit, and sat in one of the small chairs placed about. _Typical,_ thought Harry. _The man eats like a bird._

"So what'd you think the chances are for the Thundelarra Thunderers this year, Brandon? Looking to get to playoffs?" Draco asked, turning the nonexistent conversation to Quidditch, something Harry could normally relate to. However, for some reason Draco's voice sounded like nails running over a chalk board in his head.

"Blimey no," Brandon said, shaking his head. "It's a real pity, but I think after the beating they got in pre-season from Japan there's no real hope." The Snape shook his head and sighed despondently before shovelling an alarming amount of eggs into his mouth.

"Oh yes; that was quite exciting really. I was disappointed that father was only able to procure second row seats. It's detestable having loud obnoxious people planted right in front of your view."

"Aye, boy; I hear you." Brandon and Draco chatted on aimlessly about the prospects of the cup, and if Draco's voice was nails than Brandon's voice was a trumpet on a megaphone three inches away.

"How about you, Potter? Want to place a bet?"

Harry looked up at Draco at the mentioning of his name. "Umm... No thanks."

Draco scoffed. "Of course you wouldn't. The Great Harry Potter wouldn't stoop to a gentlemanly wager for entertainment's sake, regardless of the galleons he's got in the bank."

"I'd rather focus on the matter at hand," Harry said. "Speaking of which, I think it's time to go."

"I am forced to agree with Mister Potter," Snape approved, standing and giving his family a farewell nod.

Brandon nodded solemnly. "Right then." He pulled a bag he had stashed beneath the chair he was sitting at and jumped up, grabbed his wife around the waist and planted a passion-filled kiss on her. Naturally, she squealed in delight.

"See you, my love. Dorian, you're the man of the house; you're in charge." He winked at his son.

"Well duh." Dorian said, folding his arms over his chest.

"But-" Nara began, looking fearful. Brandon waved off her argument. His choice was made.

"So, Hogwarts then?" He asked Harry.

"I think it'd be best if we apparated into Hogsmeade-"

"I disagree," Snape said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We'll go to the Forbidden Forest."

"Look ,Snape," The Gryffindor began, turning to Severus. He was inches from Harry and kept a bony hand on the Boy-Who-Lived, much to Dorian's annoyance.

"You think I don't know that Mister Weasley and the Granger girl have a home in Hogsmeade, Potter? Do you think I'm stupid? You realise that Greyback also maintains the knowledge that they reside there. You should also realise that they have been captured or killed. Going for them now-" Severus seethed.

"They're my best friends!" Harry shouted, "They could still be there- alive!"

"They are not the priority," Snape retorted.

"I'm going for them," Harry tried to remove Snape's hand, but the long fingers only tightened on him. "They might need me,"

"They survived the Dark Lord; I should entertain the thought that they could best a handful of werewolves and get to safety." Severus said reasonably.

Harry glared up at Snape. His still felt ill, the added thought that Ron and Hermione may already be dead only made it worse. He wanted more than anything to be able to find them first, make sure that they were safe. They were his family. But Snape was right, which didn't help the nausea, and they didn't have time to go looking for his kindred Gryffindors.

What Harry hated most at this particular moment was how his body automatically reacted to Snape's hand on him, no matter that he knew what happened last night had been a mistake that was the result of damnable hormones and distressed emotions running amuck; something inside of Harry stirred and he couldn't seem to control it. A dark part of Harry didn't want to.

"Fine." Harry replied finally, looking away from that fathomless gaze. "Now will you let go of me?"

Snape snorted, "So that you can apparate to Hogsmeade despite all reasonable inclination? I think not, Mister Potter. We'll double up. Mister Malfoy, you take hold of that lump that calls itself Brandon. We'll want to land in the forest, but not deep enough to disturb the creatures."

Draco nodded. "Right. How about we meet near the Care for Magical Creatures corral? That way if I over shoot I'll know where to find you."

Snape agreed and nodded his affirmation, his breath ghosting Harry's ear. "Very well. Let's depart; we shouldn't linger here any longer."

"Wait!" Dorian shouted, moving to stand in front of Harry. The youngest of the Snapes glared up at him.

"Don't die, Potter, you're my only friend." He said fretfully, and then catching himself, Schooled his face into a reasonable Snape-trademark arrogant impassivity.

Harry rolled his eyes at the kid. "I'll try not to." He said warmly, appreciating the care. He returned the smirk with a some-what crooked half-grin. Dorian then threw himself onto Harry into a heavy hug. Severus' scoff was very audible but Dorian maintained the embrace anyways, and Harry genuinely returned it. When he was released, Harry patted the boy on the head, mussing up the black hair. Not seconds after receiving goodbye waves from the rest of the Snapes did Harry feel that uncomfortable tug that he would never get used to, and then the Snapes, and their house, and the smell of fresh croissants, were gone.


	5. The Day the Snape Stood Still

Chapter Five: The Day The Snape Stood Still

Day Two 23:30

Cold air whipped angrily at his face and Harry hardly had a moment to get his bearings when Snape shoved him up forcefully against a tree.

"Remember what I said about trying to go on your own, Potter." Snape hissed at Harry. "You're lucky that vile little monster drugged you; I would have been quite displeased at having to take up the task of hunting your arse down _again_." Snape paused, his body was flush against Harry's and the youth was struggling to hide his involuntary reaction of arousal through his nervousness. The older man sneered at him, no doubt feeling the excessive warmth and shameful bulge through their clothing. "Though perhaps I need a better threat than tying you down; you would probably enjoy that, wouldn't you Mister Potter?" He was speaking in his coolest, most arrogant, silkiest tone of voice; Harry knew it was on purpose. How dare the man use sensuality against him?

Snape's sneering mouth was inches from Harry's and the Gryffindor clenched his jaw to keep from saying something too incredibly stupid, or from just throwing himself at Snape. Again. Harry licked his lips, looked down at Snape's shoulder, shut his eyes, anything to not look into that face.

"H...Harry?" A haggard and strained voice came from the shadows of the forest and both men shot apart, wands drawn and pointed to the direction that the voice came from.

"Lumos," Harry said quietly and a thin light erupted from the tip of his wand, Harry took one look at the man, whose voice was so tired and worn, before charging forward only to be stopped by Severus, who had quickly snagged the younger wizard around the waist. "REMUS!" Harry shouted into the forest. "Mother of Merlin, Snape- let me go! It's Remus!"

"Or it's some fool with a polyjuice potion and a fetish for those long gone." Snape hissed into Harry's ear, his eyes on the broken werewolf, if it was truly the werewolf at all. "This could very well be a trap."

"Let me go Snape, or so help me, I'll fucking kill you." Harry struggled futilely against the potions master until finally he stopped. Snape could be right, but if he were wrong, if that was Remus injured only a dozen or so feet away...

"Harry... You must get out of here." Remus said weakly. "Greyback...They're everywhere."

"How did you survive the final battle?" Snape demanded, his arm still holding Harry, his wand still pointed at 'Lupin.' It was a fair question, hadn't Harry seen Lupin dead in the Great Hall? Hadn't they spoken with the resurrection stone? Or maybe, perhaps, it never truly resurrected anyone, but only pulled imprints from Harry's mind, of what they should have been and should have said. should have been and should have said. As Hermione had suggested later, still, after all that they had been through, an unbeliever of the Hollows.

"Greyback..." Lupin struggled to his feet, with the light of his wand Harry could see that something was seriously wrong with his Godson's father.

"Oh, Remus," he said, his voice shivering with pity. The man was so _broken_. He was thin, haggard, and his eyes… His eyes were a wolf's eyes. Harry's breath hitched. Had Remus gone feral? He was suddenly very thankful for Snape's firm grip around him; it grounded him.

"Potter, stand back." Snape stepped forward then, leading with his wand. "Tell me something only Lupin would know."

"I almost killed you... Twice. Jamessaved you the first time, Harry the second."

Snape glared. "Tell me something else," he demanded.

"You gave Lily a Valentine's day gift in our fifth year. A locket, silver heart... on a silver chain."

"I did." Snape lowered his wand but kept it in his hand, at the ready. "How did you know about that?" Snape's voice was eerily soft; it pulled something in Harry. He was glad it was dark and that Snape was positioned away from him; he didn't think he could look the man in the face, not with what whatever emotion was planted in him at that moment.

"She was weeping. She tossed it out when you spurned her, called her a mudblood. She never forgave you."

Severus nodded slowly. "Alright, Lupin. Potter." When the professor turned about towards Harry, whatever spell of the past that had taken hold had vanished, leaving the surly old potions master that Harry was accustomed to. "Help him."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He rushed to Remus, helping him hold his weight, half leading and half carrying the battered man along. Snape led the way still, eyes darting suspiciously about.

"Wait here. If the mongrel does anything strange immobilise him immediately. And for Merlin's sake, turn that light off." Harry made a face then but complied and grasped Remus more firmly and shifted their weight about. Snape moved forward and disappeared into the murky blackness surrounding the hut. Harry kept his eyes trained where he thought he saw the man last and was only distracted when Remus' laboured breathing worsened.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Harry timidly asked. Lupin shook his head.

"Not right now. I'm just... So tired, Harry. It's been so long; it's wonderful to... See... You..." Remus' panting got the better of him and he emitted a small groan; his head lolled back to rest on Harry's shoulder.

"Stay strong, Remus. We're almost at the castle, just take it easy." Lupin nodded weakly, ceasing attempts to start conversation again.

"Potter; Malfoy has secured an entrance to the castle." From out of nowhere Snape appeared at Remus' other side, taking the werewolf from Harry and onto his shoulder and heading out. "Stay close to me. There can still be persons unknown about."

Harry shuffled after them, anxiously looking around and brandishing his wand at the shadows. They kept to a straight trail leading to the greenhouse, now abandoned, and into a small court. Draco emerged from an obscure corner, beckoning them on, his eyes bright.

"Come on, hurry," he said excitedly. "I've made another discovery."

As soon as the three made it to Draco's doorway he shut it and led them down a dimly lit hallway and up a small flight of stairs. There was an empty portrait, but the blonde simply swung it to the side and held it up so that the rest could pass beneath it. They had come upon the magical stairway, which was keeping still for the time being.

"Everyone head to the... Is that Professor Lupin on your arm?" Draco seemed to notice the extra luggage just then, his eyes widening and brows leaping up his forehead. The blonde shook his head disbelievingly. "Right; let's go. They're in the headmaster's office."

"They?" Questioned Harry hopefully, but he was pointedly ignored.

"Both of you, take him." Severus shrugged Remus off and handed him to the young men. "I must see to my stores. I shall meet you at the headmaster's office. What is the password I will require?"

"Dumbledore's Army," Draco said mischievously. Snape grimaced sourly before he set off.

"Dumbledore's Army?" Harry was quite surprised as he set off with Draco, gingerly carrying a nearly delirious Remus along.

"You'll understand soon enough," the blonde informed him, smiling queerly at the Gryffindor. Harry's heart leapt in his chest; perhaps his friends were safely assembled here, already preparing to launch an assault against Greyback's forces!

It seemed to take forever to reach their destination, but they met the gargoyle and Draco boldly told it the password and as the door swayed open a warm light crept out, along with the smell of cinnamon tea.

"Harry!" Harry's vision was completely obscured by a mass of thick brown hair, and he heard many other cries of astonishment and hello. "And... Professor Lupin? Oh! Oh, he looks hurt! Quick, set him down on that chair." Harry couldn't help but smile; he had only just arrived and Hermione was already telling him what do.

"Hello Hermione," He said. Then he looked around the office. There were quite a few people present. Professor McGonagall was perched in the headmaster's seat and both Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood were seated across from the great desk. Brandon was comfortably leaning against the opposite wall, tea in hand, and Madam Hooch smiled keenly at Harry, sitting next to a very shaky Trelawney.

"I foresaw this!" The divination teacher muttered in what she probably assumed was a very spooky voice. Honestly, it just sounded like hay fever.

As Harry, Draco, and Hermione laid Remus onto the chair, Snape dramatically entered, carrying a large crate of vials and potions with him. "There are more of you then?" The man snidely remarked as he made his way to the desk to set his burden down. If he was remotely aware of the tension that appeared with him, he didn't show it.

"I had the incredible good fortune to come across Filch, Flitwick, and even Mudungus on my way. It was delightful." Snape sneered and began pulling out bottles and setting them down on the desk in a strange order only he understood. "Not to mention the most joyful reunions I had with both the Bloody Baron and Peeves. It's such a shame I didn't have the time to catch up. Move over," he barked sharply at Harry and Hermione, pushing Harry out of the way with his hip as he held three mysterious vials in one hand and his wand in the other.

"What are you going to do to him?!" Harry demanded. He was anxious and though he didn't mean to snap at Snape, he also didn't apologize for it.

"Harry," Hermione said softly and pulled at his arm, trying to draw his attention away from Severus.

"Harry, please, just let Professor Snape work." Her voice was small, strained and Harry finally wrenched his gaze away from Snape long enough to pay attention to his friend.

The woman wrapped her arms around Harry with a sob and held him tightly, "Oh Harry!" She cried, "Thank Merlin you're alright! Ron was convinced you'd turn yourself in, to save the others, but I knew you'd come to Hogwarts. Where's Ginny? How did you end up travelling with Professor Snape and Malfoy? How is Professor Snape even alive? Oh Harry, what are we going to do? Do you have a plan yet? Where did you find Professor Lupin? Do you know how he survived this long?"

Harry hugged Hermione to him once more and took a shuddering breath. "Ginny's dead." He whispered to her, and struggled to continue when she clutched him even tighter, "Snape rescued me, he took me to his family's home; that's where I learned about Greyback. Malfoy happened to be there and wanted to help. I actually have no idea how Snape is alive, we haven't had much time to catch up.." Harry hoped she didn't question the lie. Didn't have time to catch up, had plenty of time to fuck. "Yes, we have a plan. No; I don't know how Professor Lupin survived this long and we found him in the Forbidden Forest." He explained what he thought was necessary quickly, and pulled away from Hermione so that he wouldn't be strangled by her. Her hand clutched his and tears ran down her face. "I'm sorry." He apologized. "It is my fault, Ginny and now Angelina and all the rest he's been killing."

"Oh, don't be stupid, Harry," Hermione said, brushing the tears away and putting on her 'I'm a brave Gryffindor' face.

"Wouldn't that be difficult?" Brandon whispered to Malfoy and they both snickered brazenly, seemingly immune to the emotional distress in the room.

"It's not your fault." Hermione continued, ignoring them. "So don't even start thinking like that. Besides, there will be plenty of time to feel sorry for ourselves after we stop Greyback. I'm so sorry about Ginny, and I can't imagine what you must be feeling." She gave Harry a sympathetic look. "It was painless, at least? Wasn't it? Oh, I hope she didn't suffer- I hope it wasn't something dreadful."

"Yeah," Harry said, his throat was dry and he went to pour himself a cup of tea. "Where's Ron?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said with a half sob. She sat herself in an empty chair and wiped her eyes some more. "He left! He thought you'd go to the Ministry and he took off with Seamus and Dean! I'm sure they've been captured, or worse! I keep listening to the channel, hoping to hear and dreading that it could- that Ron is- that he-!" She broke off sobbing and Luna rushed over to comfort her wailing friend.

Harry said nothing, closing his eyes to keep calm. "How's he looking, Snape?" Harry asked, moving back to Severus. "Can we go soon?"

"So you have a plan Harry?" Luna asked, looking to him with Hermione.

"Yeah, we've got a plan. But we don't have time to stick around we've-"

"Is Pomfrey here?" Snape demanded, ignoring Harry who was standing much too closely to the Potions Master.

"In the Hospital Wing," replied McGonagall. "She's got her hands full as it is," she said tightly. "Tell us what you need to heal Lupin and I'll retrieve it."

"Lupin will need several very powerful potions administered in the next twenty-four hours if he is to even have half a chance at living through the next full moon. A potent Calming Draught to start with, Skelegrow for all the broken bones that will have to be removed and replaced, a pungent Blood Replenishing potion- two actually as his bleeding has slowed but I doubt it will stop until we get the bones back and set properly. An effective round Nutrition supplement would be advisable, unless you want him to die of starvation. I would also recommend a rigorous round of Pepper Up, and also some pain relieving potions, as he may very well slip into an irreversible coma before this can all be applied. After he's stabilized Pomfrey will know what medical attention and rehabilitation he shall have to undergo. I'm surprised he hasn't died from physical shock as it is." Snape belted out his list of potions in one long and perfectly articulated order. He was glaring at the room, especially at McGonagall- or at the portrait at Dumbledore that hung directly behind her. "Well? For Merlin's sake woman, it's not like the damn wolf has time for you to check the stores. Get the potions or let him die. Let's go Mister Potter, you have a would-be Dark Lord to defeat."

"Severus!" McGonagall cried out as Snape moved away from Lupin. He had wrapped Lupin up in rudimentary bandages and it seemed as if the Potions Master had done an excellent job at patching the werewolf up, at least for now. Snape paused as he headed to the door and turned back to the headmaster desk, sneering. "We don't have those potions." Professor McGonagall said tightly. "After the war was won, Slughorn left and the Potions Professor we have now doesn't know the difference from slicing and dicing- even if she were here, as she had left for the summer holidays before this crisis began. Poppy may have some Pepper Up and a Nutrition potion as students get sick and need those things all the time but the rest... and what about a Wolfsbane potion? We can't have Remus here at the height of the full moon without one and no one here has the skill to brew that."

Harry swore that he heard Severus growl. "Rest in peace, Moony."

"No!" Harry shouted, reaching out to Snape. "We'll stay until the potions are made, we can all help and it'll be done in no time."

"Mister Potter, you have no idea what goes into making even the simplest of these potions." Snape bitterly stated.

"I do," Brandon said. "I may not be a Master, but I can get that Calming Drought going while you work on the others, we can make sure Lupin survives the moon and head off- if Potter's willing to sacrifice twenty odd more people for this one." At that moment Remus feebly lifted his head. Harry kneeled at his chair.

"I am." Harry said. Lupin could not die, not after Harry just got him back. Ron was smart, he had survived Voldemort and he probably hadn't even gotten captured yet. Ron would be fine.

"No, Harry." Remus said hoarsely. "Go, on, it's too impotant..."

"Like hell," Harry cursed, moving to take Remus' hand. "I need you to live, Teddy needs you."

Remus took in a sharp breath, licking his lips and nodding. Harry could see that dim light of determination to live in his eyes.

"Mister Potter," Snape began slowly and Harry met his cold stare. It was odd, that just the night before they had had sex, not twelve hours ago. "I will do this, but under no circumstances are you to leave my side."

"Severus!" Professor McGonagall gasped, "Aren't you being a little hard on the boy? He'll want to stay with Remus, of course."

"First of all, he is no longer a boy, and secondly I don't care what he wants," Severus replied coldly, his eyes on Harry. "Do you think I'm stupid, Potter?"

"I'm not going to answer that," Harry remarked. "It's alright, Professor McGonagall. Snape's just making sure I don't run off to save everyone while his back's turned."

"Oh come now," Hermione said dryly. "Harry isn't that stupid; he'd never go after Greyback alone."

Snape raised a brow at Harry, who shrugged. He would have tried, might still, if he could get away. The second he knew Remus would be safe he could make his way to the Ministry without endangering anyone else. Plus, he'd have his cloak and might be able to get some of the hostages out without Greyback even knowing he was there.

"Right, Harry?" Hermione asked and at his silence she smacked his arm. "Don't even think about it Harry Potter." She hissed at him.

He gave her cheeky grin. "Alright Hermione, I'll be careful." He gave her a wink and ducked away as she readied another attack, only to get smacked in the back of the head by Snape, the arse. "Oi! No reason to get violent. I haven't run off yet, have I?"

Madam Hooch snickered, and was silenced by McGonagall's stiff glare.

"Let's begin, Potter; we haven't time to waste." Snape took Harry by the nape of his neck and pushed him towards the door.

Snape pushed him bodily all the way down to the laboratory, his pale hands never leaving Harry's back during their descent. As they neared the dungeons Harry shivered, unaccustomed to the chilly air the underground bred.

Harry rolled his eyes as Snape opened the door to the lab. Hermione was an excellent brewer; she should be the one here helping the moody old bat concoct Remus' potions. Why couldn't Snape just let him go?

Harry was brought out of his musings as a thick, woolly scruff was brought across his shoulders. He blinked dubiously at Snape, who was adjusting the heavy, full cape around Harry's body. "I needn't be distracted by your incessant shivering." Severus explained scathingly. His eyes didn't meet Harry's face and he quickly retreated to the store room. "Retrieve my cast iron cauldron from my desk and also one of the larger pewter makes from the cupboard." His voice resonated deeply in the still atmosphere. Harry suddenly felt very claustrophobic, but did as he was told. As he set the cauldrons on the counter Snape emerged again, carrying many crates filled with jars, phials, and various chopping instruments.

"Dice this as finely as you are capable," Snape ordered, handed Harry some sort of musty smelling, mouldy looking snippet.

In no time at all, the lab was filled with cauldrons and phials simmering and broiling and frothing and cooling. Harry even managed to not chop a finger off and was never quite scolded, although Snape could say a million insults without ever opening his mouth.

"This must be set overnight for the properties to settle properly." Snape's voice finally cut through the stones, giving Harry a slight start. "We will be retiring to my rooms for the remainder of the evening."

As Severus' figure turned away from him, Harry had an idea. As Snape stepped forward, it was a full-fledged plan.

"Wait!" He called out to the potions master, who turned marginally towards him. His silhouette in the doorway was, for a mere moment, perfectly poised in hesitation. Yes, Harry thought. He could do this.

"What is it, Potter?"

Harry gulped, nervous and somewhat afraid. Letting out a breath, he tensed and swallowed heavily. "I..."

Snape gave him a very pointed look, a look of intensity and of something Harry couldn't quite comprehend but it filled his lungs sharply and lodged itself in his core. It wasn't in any way affectionate, nor was it hatred, but it was there and it had manifested itself between them.

Harry closed his eyes, listening to the steady pounding of his heart and the soft footfalls in the hallway. As silence established itself around him he opened his eyes and boldly stepped forward.

Snape's door was open when Harry reached it, and the fire was lit. Despite the crackling flames, the rooms were dark and the air was crisp. Harry was grateful for the cloak wrapped around him. He heard running water, and followed the sound to what was apparently the professor's bedroom. He took in the large, albeit thin bed, with its black wool quilt and white bed sheets, all perfectly aligned. There was a large ebon headboard and long pillow cases in what appeared to be, of course, black cotton pillow cases.

Harry turned from the bed and towards the washroom. Snape stood in the entryway, brow raised as Harry approached.

"Is it to your liking?" The professor taunted.

"It's everything I've dreamed and more," Harry deadpanned before smiling as dashingly as possible and sliding onto the bed.

Snape threw his head back in sharp insidious laughter. The sound of it startled Harry, and he quirked his head to the side. Well, he had definitely amused the potions professor, but how was completely lost on him. Harry didn't think what he had said was that funny.

Snape's barking laughter died down, and he covered his mouth to hide the remnants of a smile with his hand as he transfigured a rug Harry hadn't noticed before into a small, cosy looking twin bed. Still covering his mirth, Severus pointed again at the new bed, changing its colours to a glaring red with little golden crowns patterning the material, all the crowns labelled 'Harry Fucking Potter.'

"That," Snape said. "Is where you will sleep tonight."

Harry blinked at the bed then looked back at Snape. "I thought I'd sleep with you." Harry said, giving his old professor a slow smile. "Unless you want me on _that_ bed."

Snape snorted, rolling his eyes. "Once again, Mister Potter, you prove how useless your mind is when it comes to such simple tasks such as _thinking_. Now get off of my bed. I've had enough of you for one day."

"You sure about that?" Harry asked, scooting farther back on the bed and pulling his shirt over his head.

"I know I wasn't that great the first time, but we could have another go."

Snape face palmed. "What the hell happened to my life?" He groaned morosely before settling onto the bed and wordlessly dimming the lights. Harry smiled victoriously and kicked his socks off onto the floor.

Snape's fingers went to his throat and began unbuttoning his shirt when Harry's hands covered them and pushed them away. Snape growled, but the boy-who-lived finished removing Severus' shirt for him. The young man's bright eyes looked up at the face of the older wizard sitting rigidly straight, and as coyly as he could manage, Harry smiled. The potions master's expression remained stoic as Harry lowered his head and, keeping eye contact with the professor, darted his tongue out. Snape shut his eyes as Harry quickly flitted his tongue over the pale skin of his chest and rested it right below his nipple. Harry, disappointed that Snape wasn't watching, violently covered the areola with his mouth and sucked, hard.

His ministrations did indeed have an effect. Snape's hands came up to Harry's head and wrenched it away from his chest and brought it up for him to lavish with hard, crushing kisses. His grip loosened, but his mouth was unrelenting, and without removing his mouth from those full, pink lips, Snape undid Harry's pants and yanked them off and pressed the boy harshly into the mattress.

Harry moaned breathlessly while pressing himself wantonly against Severus, grinding his hips and hardening penis into Snape's jutting hip. He tangled his hands into Severus' long greasy hair, and then, taking a moment between crushing kisses, Harry's tongue licked the tip of his lover's nose.

Everything stopped. Snape's dark, piercing eyes burned into Harry. Neither of them moved. The younger wizard took several deep breaths, willing his courage not to wilt under the hard stare of the Potions Master. Then, without warning Severus bent his head and bit Harry's nose. Harry knew that it was meant as a warning, but when Snape's teeth were on him Harry could feel the all the blood in his body rush to his groin. He groaned and pressed himself against the other man, fusing their lips together again and hooking his legs tightly around Severus' hips. Harry's mouth moved across Severus' jaw to his ear where he begged huskily for Snape to take him.

The older wizard groaned in response; Harry was like fire in his arms and though Severus had no idea why or what had happened inside that fool head of Potter's- he no longer cared. All thought left as the other begged for him; all of the reasons in the world wouldn't stop him now. Severus abandoned Harry's mouth, using his own to taste and molest every inch of the other man as he made his way down the younger body, stripping him of his undergarments and throwing them aside. Snape licked Harry's fully erect penis from base to tip; the young Gryffindor cried out and bucked beneath Severus moaning loudly. The moan turned into a gasp as Snape slipped a freshly lubricated finger into Harry's puckered hole.

Harry's mind raced with all the sensations and pleasure being given to him. He thrust madly against Severus' mouth while the man stretched and prepared him with his fingers, adding a second and then a third. He shuddered violently when Snape brushed against his prostate, almost coming in the older man's mouth right then. Moaning and pressing down on the long bony fingers, Harry clenched his muscles around them while gasping for air, he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

Snape was relentless. Pulling away from Harry, he removed his fingers and in one fluid motion he had Potter on his stomach, ass in the air and filled. Harry's cry of pleasure rang in his ears as he began ramming into him, the need boiled in his blood. Severus gritted his teeth and closed his eyes while his hand gripped Harry's hip. The boy-who-lived-to-be-buggered struggled to his knees and elbows, bracing his head on his forearm while he did his best to meet Snape thrust for thrust. His body clenched around Snape's throbbing cock and Harry rocked against it like a hungry whore. Severus said as much, to be rewarded with a throaty chuckle from beneath him.

"Bite me, Snape." Harry said breathlessly, holding back a deep moan as Severus pressed against him, so deeply that Harry was sure he might split in two.

"If you insist." Snape murmured wickedly against Harry's ear then sunk his teeth into Harry's back, biting down on the toned flesh. He reached around and grasped the younger man's prick in his hand, pumping it in time with his thrust while Harry could do nothing but breathily and helplessly shout in ecstasy.

Harry pressed back madly against Snape, wanting more of him- needing more. He gasped as he felt his body tense and he cried out as he came. His body convulsed jerkily around Snape's still throbbing, still thrusting erection. He thought he heard Severus groan against him as he emptied his hot, wet load into Harry and collapsed against him. Both were breathless and sated.

Harry lie there beneath Snape for several moments, trying to catch his breath and force himself to think of something besides the fact that he had never quite had an orgasm so fulfilling in his entire life. He shivered as Snape rolled away, and the chill air of the dungeon settled over him.

He felt Snape's cleaning spell, just as he had the first time, and the heavy, garish red comforter from the twin bed settled on him. He looked over at Snape, who had slipped under his own dark coverings. The man's eyes were closed, but Harry would wait to know for certain if he were sleeping. He had to assume the man, as a spy, was a light sleeper and should make sure it was safe before trying to leave the bed.

He shut his eyes and breathed in great gulps of air. What had happened? He really didn't have time to be thinking of this now, but he had just had the tousle of his life and just thinking about it was giving him a hard-on again...

Harry shifted slightly to peek over Severus' shoulder and look at the man's face. He looked... Good. Honestly, Snape never looked so good in his life. His thin lips were still red from their own ministrations, and his hair was messy and sticking out, and he looked so at peace and so...

Harry ceased trying to contemplate Snape's sudden sex-appeal and cast a wordless, wandless Tempus to see the time. Apparently it had been about twenty minutes. Harry was far too restless to bask about any longer and cast a quick silencing charm about himself and gathered his scattered clothes. As he dressed, he watched carefully for any sign from Severus that would indicate the man's return to consciousness. He pulled out a small item from his pocket, a coin, and put it on the hideous summoned bed, right on top of the pillow. Hurriedly pulling on his trainers, Harry swiftly left the room and escaped Snape's quarters.

It didn't take Harry long to reach his destination; Hogwarts was completely quiet and all the staircases were extremely well-behaved for him. Upon entering the Room of Requirement, Harry practically ran into the Vanishing Cabinet. Checking once more that he had everything he needed, invisibility cloak, coin, wand... Everything was in order. Alright…. Harry reached for the handle on the door.

"You really were planning on taking off."

Harry whipped around to see Neville leaning against a wall of who-knows-what looking sadly at him. Longbottom shook his head and belted out a small peal of dry laughter. "It's alright, Harry; I'm with you."

"What?" Harry quirked his eyebrows and tilted his head, truly confused.

"I'm coming with you. Oh- don't give me that look, you need all the help you can get and I know I can help you." Neville brought his hand down to his waist and pulled a sword up by its hilt from the scabbard draped around his middle. Harry's eyes widened and he looked pointedly at Neville.

"Yep; I have it. I've had it for nearly a fortnight- I retrieved it the day I arrived here." He walked up to Harry and winked slyly. "The Boy Who Lived can't just sneak out on a secret mission without a sword, right? Come on; I'll go first."

"No; we go together," Harry stated flatly, terribly reminded of his fourth year.

"Alright."

Together they entered the cupboard and shut the door.

a/n: Did we say two choice resurrections? Sorry, we meant three. Don't worry, how and why Moony is alive will be explained. Keep your panties dry. As always and forever, if you like what you read, please review! I only just to say hi.


	6. Army of Snarkness

Chapter Six: The Army of Snarkness

Day Three

07:00

Severus told himself that he wasn't even a little surprised to discover that Potter's absence in the bed when he woke, as this was not the first time such had happened. However, there were several other occurrences that morning that he may have found to be of interest. Such as the small fact that the only reason he noticed Potter wasn't in the bed was because he woke with a raging hard on and the Gryffindor was nowhere in sight. The second would be the coin on the bed, indicating that Potter had had the final word on who was the real whore last night.

A cold rage had settled over the potions master then as he returned to his empty laboratory. His idiot cousin was already busy making a complete mess of things. Luckily Draco was present and for that Severus believed they hadn't completely ruined his hard work.

"Hey, Professor," Draco greeted. "You haven't seen Potter lurking around this morning, have you?"

"GET OUT!" Severus roared. It was only a small spot of pleasure to see both of them head for the door without further snarling necessary. As the door shut with a resounding slam, Severus leaned on the counter , his head in his hands. This was a mess.

He was a mess.

He quickly set to work finishing the potions that weren't far from completion and neatly inscribing their names and details on fine parchment labels on their phials. The Wolfsbane potion was well under way and as Snape set everything back into place and organized Lupin's recommended concoctions he didn't feel lonely, dejected, or used. Not even a little bit.

As he made his way to the headmaster's office with a crate full of the potions he'd prescribed and many more, Snape had come to accept his situation. Acceptance didn't lift the melancholy from his mood or the bitter grimace from his face, but it did make him acutely aware that the nightly escapades with Potter were surely preposterously ridiculous to have even happened at all. He had made some decidedly senile decisions and had succumbed to very base desires that he shouldn't have, with a person he never should have experienced such things with. Yes, thought Severus, he was disappointed, more with himself than with that wanton Potter.

The office door creaked open to reveal McGonagall, Granger, and Lupin already situated around the desk with a light breakfast spread before them.

"Good morning, Severus," McGonagall greeted.

"Yes, Severus, Good morning." Lupin's decrepit state was only more pronounced in the harsh glare of sunlight. Snape snorted angrily and set his burden down upon the desk with much more force than necessary.

"Lupin, you look like shit," The potions master said. Hermione started and stared openly at her old professor. McGonagall's expression was one of aghast shock and even Lupin seemed bewildered at the open hostility.

"Everything your status requires is here. The instructions for extracting and handling the Wolfsbane potion are in this envelope. I understand you have a lot of catching up to do. My condolences are with you for your deceased wife."

Before anyone could retort or stop him, Snape promptly turned his heel and left. He slipped a hand into his cloak and touched the tip of the coin with his finger, returning to the dungeons. To hell with Potter.

"Professor Snape!" Hermione had chased after Severus. "Where is Harry?"

Snarling, Snape whirled to face the Gryffindor alumni. "Where the hell do you think your idiot saviour ran off to?"

"Neville went with him." Luna informed them, stepping from a corridor. "Last night... Or perhaps it was this morning." Her voice was light and airy, not fit at all for the terrible subject at hand.

In an instant Severus had stormed out the room. Draco doggedly rushed after him, intent on getting to the cupboard with his former head of house. Hermione and Brandon were not far behind.

"He's put us in a right stupid mess," Hermione gasped out. She had just skidded down the corridor to the Room of Requirement when Draco opened the door of it for Snape.

"Wait!" She called out loudly. "I'm going with you!"

Draco looked at her testily but held the door open. Hermione sighed in relief and brushed her heavy bangs from her forehead. She walked briskly alongside Brandon who, after catching her eye, winked playfully at her.

"It's very hard to believe that you and he are related," Hermione stated plainly, tying her canvas pack more securely within her long, draping skirt. She just _knew _she should have worn some jeans today…

Inside the Room, Professor Snape was avidly searching the cupboard. He had sensed that it had been used recently, and that someone had had the audacity to repaint the thing canary yellow. _Yellow._

"I've got some things we may need," Hermione informed them. "You had just left, Professor; I needed to know you were prepared."

Snape finally gave the girl his attention. His leer of repugnant disdain was indeed very distressing, but his mussed hair and sharp, deliberate actions were that of a madman on a mission. His scowl deepened and he looked away. Hermione did not rebuke him further.

Draco studied his mentor's behavior intensely; something had happened to the man. He was never this careless, not about his appearance, his emotions, his strategy… Draco coolly looked away from Snape before the man could notice he was being stared at, though in his fitful mood, the blonde doubted he would notice.

"Well, shall we go on then?" Brandon stated the obvious in his bold voice. "I'll go ahead then." He stepped through despite Hermione's quick protests, closed the door, and was gone.

"Damn." Draco spat, before grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her through with him "See you on the flip side," he called out to Snape.

Snape closed his eyes and breathed levelly. "Accio cloak," he growled out through grinding teeth. With the woolly cloak he had wrapped Harry in before, he finally stepped into the cupboard and left.

He emerged from the cupboard into a dark, dusty room filled with inane gadgets both magical and muggle alike. The walls were lined with papers which were taking the time to slowly move from their homes on the shelves to the dull linoleum ground. Brandon had taken post at the only door out. Draco was skulking about, playing with the widgets and Hermione was leaning against a wall, coughing quietly. You'd think he had kept them waiting for forty minutes, not seconds.

Snape shrunk the cloak enough to stuff it into his pants pocket, then marched forward to the door. After casting a few investigative charms, he concluded that the next room was empty and devoid of alarms. With a quick Alohamora, he opened the door and led the group out.

Severus cast a thick Muffliato around them before tersely asking, "Where is this place?"

Hermione looked up, her eyes bright in the muffled darkness. "I've been here; this adjoins Arthur's office, which is only a few stories above the Wizengamot's floor. Honestly, we can annex the minister's office from here; Kinglsey is right below Arthur."

Snape absorbed the information silently. As a starting point, they could have done a lot worse. What a mad stroke of luck it was that, being friends, Arthur and Shacklebot's offices would be so near each other.

Severus silently cast a very particular, specially modified, necessary cousin to the Point Me spell he had long ago devised specifically for instances like this. Well, if five years could be considered long ago, and needing to know where Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Harry Potter were located at all times could be thought of as _necessary_.

_Invenio Thematis._

Now though, the spell only showed where Harry was. How incredibly convenient; first it had led him to Barcelona, and now it will direct him again. At the wand's deep inclination down, Snape smiled grimly.

Yes; how convenient.

"Stairs. Now."

Unsurprisingly, Brandon was the first to act. His own wand, thirteen inches of white spruce with a Sirin tail-feather core, was brandished before him. Draco followed, then Severus, with Hermione bringing up the rear.

"Do you feel that?" Draco harshly whispered as they entered the empty hallway. "The place is… Strumming."

It was. Something was causing the area to hum vibrantly; the frequency was felt through the structure and a low, throbbing humming was just discerningly audible.

"What is that?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing good," Brandon decided. "Severus, is that howling?"

"Yes, but the sort made by men." The vibrations must be made by the sheer number of soldiers, and if one were to incline one's head down the stairs they would hear the heavy, amplified music that Greyback's wolf-army were howling off-key to.

At the stairwell, Snape turned around and promptly Disillusioned all of them. "Don't get lost. If you do not make it to the Wizengamot's chambers below, regroup at the cupboard, but do not under any circumstances lead anyone to it. If anyone should find themselves to be the only one to make it, rescue Potter and _promptly_ retreat. Brandon, you will acquire enough wands for those we do save. Draco, find the Weasleys. Potter won't leave without them."

"Right; anything else?" A very invisible Draco Malfoy was a very disconcerting thing.

"Yes; do not fail." Invisible Snape was over a thousand times worse.

Brandon snorted humorously, "Yes, because that was actually my original plan, cousin. Thank you for sorting that out."

Severus didn't bother to reply but did glare in the direction of Brandon's voice. Not that it mattered; his glare couldn't be seen and served as merely self satisfying.

Severus must have been in the lead.

He flew gracefully down the stairwell, using the single resource he knew none of his enemies had had. As far as he knew, he may be the only one left who knew how to fly.

He had no shuffle of footsteps to be discovered by as he passed the first guard. There were four of them leaning against the heavy doorframe; it was tricky not touching them.

The music was discernible now; the riot perfectly audible. Now items were shaking where they sat and the vibrations travelled from the floor through one's shoes (not that Severus could feel it, but he knew) and through one's body.

After another few stairwells and through a long, dark corridor the sounds and sensations were deafening. An eerie, noxious green light permeated the rooms, and the place was absolutely _teeming_ with werewolves. Severus was only a left turn from the corridor's end from the holding area; he was so _close_!

It was then that he felt it; a soft warmth in his pocket. At first he paid it no notice, but then the heat flared and he quickly darted into a small compartment and behind a large teak cabinet. He took the coin from his pocket; it was searing hot, but he held it regardless.

_Think, Severus, what did it mean?_

It struck him then, with brutal clarity. He examined the tiny inscription on the coin reading 'Fourth Floor,' He didn't think less of brash, green-eyed Gryffindors, but relief assuaged the cold fury he hadn't realized he'd been harboring within himself. Now, his heat raced with a new vitality, and he held the white-hot coin in his palm as he once again joined the hunt.

He turned the corner and had to stop himself. There was no prison guard. The entry was dark, but clear of obstacles. He scanned the opening for alarms, hexes, detectors, but to no avail. Severus rolled his eyes, a habit he luxuriated in when not in the presence of dark lords. Greyback was just asking for his hostages to be taken. Warily, Snape actually stepped inside the doorframe. He knew that the entire building was smothered in anti-apparition wards; he did not want to be found out before he had Harry again.

There was no lighting for twenty paces or so. Large, oxidized iron bars were engulfing darkness on both sides of the wide walkway. The cells were filled with shivering, dirty, wide-eyed people. As far as Snape could tell, they were all unchanged and relatively unscathed. He was looking for specific faces, faces dotted with freckles and topped off with red hair, faces with bright eyes shining with fierce Gryffindor stubbornness; those people would know where Harry was.

He stopped dead in his tracks when one particularly surly creature caught his attention. The youth had a full face and the heavy, muscled form of an athlete, but there was no mistaking the distinctions.

That boy was an Evans.

Realizing that he must be looking at Petunia's son, Severus walked over and began disassembling the lock on the boy's cell. The other dozen or so inmates realized something was happening, but the muggle cretin didn't even notice the lock being undone by either magical or mundane means.

"Oi!"

If Snape was capable of feeling gratitude towards a Weasley, then that is what he would have felt at that moment. Ron emerged from the back of the cell he unlocked, pushing the door open with all the grace and strength of an elephant.

"I'd be sure to be more discreet, Mister Weasley, when breaking free of an enemy's abode."

Ron's pale, grimy face went white and his possibly singed hair stood on end. "Professor?" He croaked out, peering up and down the hall, looking for the body to match the voice. "Aren't you… Dead?"

Severus gripped Ron's white arm tightly with his free hand, pulling the young man close, and whispered steadily into his ear. "Where is he?"

The red-head shook his head, Severus mentally admonished existence itself. "Get the Dursley boy and lead him out of here. Go into the Department of Mysteries and through the cabinet. If you find that idiot along the way, stun him and take him with you. Draco!" Severus barked out.

"Yes?" Came a breathy voice from thin air. Weasley looked disconcerted. He rubbed his face, muttering about filthy blokes and a hostile take-over.

"Go with them. Start letting all the civilians free, keep them quiet, and instruct them from here. Take the young, old, and weak through the cabinet; the rest must remain here in case the worst happens. Keep an eye out for _him._"

"What if Greyback discovers us?"

"Don't let him."

"But, Severus, if he does…"

"Then I will deal with him, now get going; you've all tested my patience enough." Snape's slim fingers corded around Harry's cousin's arm. "Follow the ginger," he spat. Wide-eyed but silent, Dudley did as he told, shoes scuffling softly on his way out.

Harry wasn't here.

Well, he was here, but he wasn't _here_. The brat had obviously been endangered, possibly discovered, or… What? The-Boy-Who-Lived can't just run off and die now, can he? Gold glinted in the corner and Severus picked up the twin to the coin burning in his hand. The idiot had dropped it, if it had been on purpose to save the Dursley boy Snape was going to kill Harry Potter.

With a sneer on his still invisible face, the potions master left the cells. There were still deeper levels, dark, dank, and very well-hidden within the ministry building. Potter was, most likely, being held captive secretly. Severus would go there. But first…

"_InvenioThematic_."

Yes; Harry was further below.

Severus continued downwards.

12:00

Harry lifted his head when he came to, consciousness flooding his brain with a searing pain and a dull throb at the back of his skull. _Concussion it is then_, he thought. He looked around himself, feeling fairly stupid. _Of course_ he ran off and got caught… Damn it. At least Neville was still free.

Harry spat blood out onto the cold floor; slowly he brought his head up to look up at a satisfied Greyback. The conjured chains holding him against the wall was the only reason he hadn't fallen on his face yet. His eyesight was blurred by the blood lazily adorning his wounded crown, but he could still see his friends and in-laws in the cage on the far side of what was once the Wizengamot council chamber.

"I expected you sooner, Harry," Greyback commented, smirking, and running his hands through his massive tangle of hair. "I didn't think you'd let so many poor innocents die." He kicked at Alicia's body that still lay where it had fallen.

"Get stuffed." Harry shot back, and then he winced as he was back-handed again. Somewhere, beyond the hot sensation of pain saturating his senses, Harry could hear Greyback's rumbling chuckle and the weeping of Molly accompanied by Arthur's soft murmurs. He closed his eyes; he knew his cheek had been split open with that last blow. He kept his breath steady, maintaining the illusion of calm collection.

"Are you offering, Potter?" Greyback hissed so only he could hear, surprising Harry with his warm breath in his ear. "I can smell him on you. You should be ashamed... So soon after poor, sweet, little Ginny."

Harry strained uselessly against the chains to get at Greyback, to do anything to the fucking murdering bastard, but the werewolf just laughed and walked away. Before his great, swaggering stride reached the door, he turned around to speak again to his prized prisoner. "Stick around, Harry Potter. We're going to have a wonderful broadcast this evening."

Harry growled ferociously; it was a low sound, feral and full of violent intent. Hopefully Snape would have picked up the coin he left and wasn't far behind. His entire plan relied on Snape, his intellect, his power, and his knack of always saving Harry in the knick of time. With his panic level rising and his anger building, Harry knew it would be only a matter of time before he did something that got himself killed.

The door was shut and locked behind the madman and Harry sagged bonelessly against the wall. Snape would come, he had to. He was Harry's only chance at getting out of there alive with his family. It had been five hours since he was discovered looking for the cell his family was being held in, and even though Harry believed with all his heart and soul that Snape would show up, he was starting to wonder if he had done the right thing by coming here.

At least this way no one else had been murdered for him, and back at Hogwarts Remus would be getting better... His sacrifice, if it came to that, wouldn't be for nothing. Teddy would have his father now, at least.

A soft rumble of stonework coming apart to form a magical hidden doorway just next to where Harry was hanging gave way to reveal Neville's hiding place in the next room. "You alright, Harry?" Neville asked quietly, poking his head out of the invisibility cloak. Harry smiled graciously; the Weasleys almost gave them away with a small round of cheers and hopeful laughter. Even Potter chuckled a little; their enthusiasm was contagious, and Neville's continued scouting and presence was reassuring.

"Yeah, Neville," Harry lied. He felt like he had just been pummeled with a dozen bludgers. "Did you find Ron?"

"Ron's missing?" Demanded Mrs. Weasley quietly, "Who else? What about Ginny? Where's my daughter?"

Harry wished in that moment that Greyback had already killed him, because the expectant look in those blue eyes was too much to bear. Arthur took Molly into his arms as she bit back a wail and their sons all joined in an attempt to comfort their grief-stricken mother, expressions of terrible surprise on all their faces. Fleur, dreadfully quiet throughout Harry's capture thus far, took Bill's hand in her own, her dirty face streaked with dried tears and her bright eyes brimming with fresh tears already. Harry hadn't needed to say it for them to know. It was a small and terrible mercy; every time he thought about her his gut wrenched and he was back on the beach, and it was happening all over again.

"No," Neville replied stoically, looking about before heading over to examine the lock on the cage. "But I heard some of Greyback's men talking- apparently several of the cells have been opened and captives are missing. It had to be Ron and the others. I don't know how though, since they obviously didn't use the-"

"Quiet," George hissed as the door twitched. "_Hide."_

The hood came over Neville's head and they all tried to act as normal as possible as Ron came stumbling into the room followed by none other than Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, none of them looking worse for the wear. Despite the melancholy, the oppressed citizens, especially Molly, were again ecstatic for their new visitors.

"Dean, keep an eye on the hallway." Ron commanded. "I don't want anymore surprises, eh mate?" He turned to the cage, addressing everyone. "How is everyone? Mum, Dad? You okay? Hey look, it's Neville!" Said Gryffindor removed the invisibility cloak and moved to help Harry remove his chains. With luck they could all get out of here without anymore missteps.

"What a sight for sore eyes you are!" Fred exclaimed, beaming through the bars at his little brother.

"Come here and give me a kiss, Ronny." George laughed, even if it were half-heartedly. All of them looked relieved to see them, happy that their rescue team had been so large, but still had a haggard look about them, still worried and scared over the tortures they'd received at the hands of their captors.

"None of that." He said, heading over to Harry, "Looks like I was right about you mate, and Hermione said you weren't stupid enough to turn yourself in. I mean really, fool me once."

"All part of the plan," Harry joked, wincing as Ron released one of the chains easily and started on the one Neville was struggling with. "Though admittedly I was expecting you a little earlier, I mean really, it's been hours."

"Sorry about that, mate. We had a bit of trouble getting here, had to come down from the main lobby." They grinned at each other and a loud blast rang out through the room. A flash of blue light struck Ron square in the back and the red head fell to the ground unconscious. The screams from the captives resonated throughout the room and Harry became stricken with fear for his friend.

"RON!" Harry roared and watched with horror as Dean was pushed limply into the room by a giggling werewolf. Neville dodged the second attack and hook cover behind an overturned table. Harry struggled with his chain remaining wrist chain, wishing he was more proficient at wand less magic. He tried to focus his mind on the unlocking spell, shouting ALOAMORA in his mind over and over - without result.

"Shit," Seamus cursed, throwing himself behind a row of benches stacked near the cage.

"Bravo, almost had us." A french sounding werewolf slunk into the room, he looked like he had had his nose broken recently and blood flowed down his front. Four more came in behind the first, wands raised. "But alas, you weren't good enough, you- chain Potter back up." The leader waved non-committedly at Harry who was pulling at his chain, trying to get to Ron.

"_Youwillnottouchhim_." A deep snarl reverberated in the air. Two of the werewolves were down before anyone knew what was happening and Severus strode purposefully into the room. Harry sagged against his restraint in relief at the sight of black robes and eyes and hair. _He's here… Thank goodness… He's here. _"Malfoy," Snape called out. "Cease your useless loitering and release these people."

Draco appeared from the landing above them and floated down on a modified levitation charm and got to work on the makeshift prison filled with Weasleys, old School friends and professors along with the members of the Order of the Phoenix, all who seemed very surprised that it was the long thought-dead Snape and Draco Malfoy coming to their aid.

"I have wands!" Brandon announced with all the boisterous energy he could muster upon entrance. "But unfortunately I can't find Pott- oh... Well then. Excellent work, everyone!"

Hermione came in behind Brandon and choked on a sob as she spotted Ron, unmoving on the ground at Harry's feet. She sprung into action, red-faced and muttering beneath her breath as she rushed forward to tend to him. "Oh, Ronald! Dean!" She called to the boy standing, bewildered, next to the now-open cage. "Come here! Help me with him!"

But Harry had eyes only for Snape. He had found the coin, Harry knew it, and had come just in the knick of time. However, Snape didn't look too pleased and even angry- about what Harry couldn't fathom- the potions master had to have known Harry wasn't going to wait for the potions to be ready, that he would go. There was something in Snape's eyes that said there was more, that something that Harry had done really set the man off this time, and as Severus came closer Harry almost wished Snape hadn't come to his rescue.

"You found me." Harry said lamely, giving Snape a small smile as the man released the chains that bound Harry to the wall. It was hard to contain his excitement for seeing the man, despite the iciness that permeated his movements. "Knew the coin would work, even though I did have to assume you would know how to use it."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry, glaring darkly. "An idiot could have figured it out, Mister Potter."

He nearly fell on top of Snape, an after tumbling ungracefully into the man's arms coming down from the wooden box platform, and he took a moment to survey the area. Neville re-appeared next to him to lend a hand. Harry accepted gratefully, and balanced himself between his friend and the potion master.

"Still part of the plan, Harry?" Longbottom asked with a grin.

"Oh, yeah, you know how I like to linger on the point of death before saving the day." Harry winced.

Hermione had Ron hovering on his back, still unconscious and floating over to the rest, who were gathering wands and readying themselves. Several thunderous cracks emanated through the hall as they were surrounded by momentary darkness and then Greyback's men.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Bright flashes of lights threatened to blind Harry as dozens of curses and counter curses were volleyed through the room. A sharp shove from Severus had Harry on his back, and then he was covered by the invisibility cloak from Neville, who then went right into the thick of things, wand in hand.

Harry groaned, irritated at the both of them. He was a wizard too- he didn't need protecting and he sure as hell didn't need to be hidden. He was the one who finished off Voldemort in the end, wasn't he? In a minute or two he'd get up and finish what Greyback started. Just a minute to get his strength back, and then he'd get up… He tried pushing himself up gingerly, just to crumple back down onto the cold floor.

"Fools!" It was Greyback, in the center of it all then, crying out as he flung his own nasty hexes at the escaped prisoners. "Fools, the lot of you. Did you think you could escape? Do you not see? I have won!"

With a menacing growl he turned to Severus, who was all but charging at him, wand at the ready. The werewolf bared his yellowing teeth and leapt at the ex-death eater. "And you, more fool than the rest."

"Upset that your plan has been foiled, dog?" Snape whipped wordless curse after curse at Greyback, barely pausing in his advance. "Even the Dark Lord had better luck than you."

Enraged, Greyback leapt at Severus, swiping at him with long, sharpened nails. Snape, who had expected this, maneuvered easily out of his reach and, turning back, curled his fist and slammed it into Greyback's jaw.

13:00

"Oi, Malfoy," Fred tugged Draco away from the heated battle and towards Greyback's broadcaster. "You've got tiny, girlish hands, don't you?"

"What do you mean by-"

"Shut up, take this and plug it there. I can't reach." George said, handing a copper wire to Draco; who was still sputtering. "Oh and watch your back while you're at it-"

"Wouldn't want to be hexed from behind now would you?" Fred added, sending up a quick Protego charm to guard the three of them.

"Be quick about it too,"

"Yeah, we want the whole world to hear this."

"Can't let Greyback have all the air time fun, can we?"

"Will you two buffoons shut up?" Draco demanded, straining to make the right connectors. "What happened to it, anyway?"

"Longbottom knocked it over when the fighting started," George said sorrowfully.

"Idiot nearly destroyed the thing."

"Though he might have thought it was a werewolf, it was dark."

Draco rolled his eyes, making the connection and turning back just in time to catch Greyback graze Snape with a cutting hex, slicing his robes. "Shit," He cursed, but just as he moved to assist two werewolves dived forward, wands at the ready and looking as dangerous as if it were the full moon. "Where the _fuck_ did Potter go?"

Quickly, Draco cast _sectumsempra_, and then a dizzying stunning hex on the second attacker. After that one went down, he advanced upon the werewolf bleeding on the floor and petrified him. "Bleed to death, you sodding bastard!" Dashing forward, he gazed about, searching for that streak of black that could be only Snape. He rushed to where he thought he had spotted him last, hoping the man wouldn't be too far. As he reached the platform he tripped over something; he caught himself with his hands and looked at what had tangled itself around his feet. He saw a glimpse of a pale wrist, and smears of still-wet blood.

"Potter." Draco growled, throwing the invisibility cloak over the still-wounded savior. "Potter, how are you, you useless sack of-"

"Find Snape," Harry commanded. "I can't quite get up; find him and help him."

"Forgive me, but I believe him to be infinitely more capable than you, Potter." Draco quickly shielded them and, making sure Harry's form remained covered, hefted him upright and guided him towards the door. "Especially right now."

"No, you're right." Harry's voice was strained. "Watch out, there's a man coming up on your left here." Draco cast a perfect hex upon their offender, and the man was thrown backwards with the force of the attack. The crack of his skull sickened Harry; Draco remained unperturbed.

"How badly are you bleeding?" The blond asked, leaning Harry against the wall.

"What?" Harry asked, as Draco shielded them once again and scurried beneath the cloak with him.

"You're leaving a bloody… blood… trail… Don't be stupid. Let me see." He ran his hands over Harry's arms and legs, poking all the right places to make Harry squirm in pain. Quickly, Draco healed them as best he could with little breath and time. The pain was searing, but after the initial burning sensation the wounds closed up and the agony was reduced to a dull throbbing not unlike the feel of a fresh bruise. "Better?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Good. Let's find that psychopath of a Slytherin." Draco lifted the cloak off the both of them and stuffed it into Harry's hands. "Do you have your wand?"

"No, Greyback took it from me."

"That's sodding perfect, Potter. Let's go. Do try to not get yourself killed."

They walked side by side, Draco doing his utmost to protect Harry. Once they were caught off guard and surprising, both of them, Draco swung a nasty, quick punch to their attacker's nose. The woman shrieked as blood spurted down her face, and instead of hexing her, Draco pushed her hurriedly away and steered Harry again towards the door, the blond's face bloodless and eyes wide with astonishment.

"Did you just hit a girl, Malfoy?"

"A werewolf, Potter."

"A girl werewolf."

Any backhanded comment Draco had ready was cut off by a metallic clanging to their right; Neville, battered and still-standing, had been disarmed by a foe, and Gryffindor's blade had been slung to the ground. Draco raised his wand and cut the werewolf down; Harry went for the sword, stomping the fingers of an ambitious grunt of Greyback's who had hastily dived down for the sword. With a swift curse from Neville, the lackey fell unconscious.

"Are you alright, Neville?" Harry asked.

His companion nodded. "Do you not have your wand?" At Harry's wordless affirmation, Neville waved him off. "Take the sword, Harry. You need it."

Harry thanked him, then turned at Draco's shout. He was fending off a familiar face, the brute who had murdered his wife. It seemed a lifetime ago, what with the tumultuous events since that day, but the hurt was still fresh; Harry could still smell the sweetness of her hair, felt the softness of her face beneath his fingertips.

"_You_."

Harry lunged forward, swinging the silver blade towards the one he hated most in the world in that moment, more than his uncle, more than Voldemort himself. His thrusts were choppy and quick, he swung blindly being blind himself with rage. He kept his eyes on that grinning, malicious face. It was the same grin as that day, and all the violence and action around him existed in a different world. All there was, as he chased after the murderer, was him, his sword, and that werewolf.

That focus was a terrible mistake.

A great ache engulfed his sword arm; Harry refused to let go, but was powerless to stop the attacker that had come to aid his prey. Frantically, Harry searched the throes of combat for his allies, but neither Draco nor Neville were near, and those within his sight were occupied with their own defenses. His teeth clattered as a thick boot cuffed his head; as he fell his grip on the sword remained strong, though he was too weak to lift it.

"Foolish boy," the blond man purred in a voice like gravel. He stepped confidently to the prone young man, standing victoriously over him. Smiling widely, he dropped his heavy boot on top of Harry's hand, smashing the knuckles and effectively bloodying them. Harry grimaced in his pain and displeasure, but didn't shout.

"Her body's still there, feeding the birds and flies."

Harry did shout then. Rabidly he fought to regain control, but in vain. The man above him laughed before kicking him harshly first in the ribs, then in the stomach.

"Stupid wizards. Can't do anything at all without a wand, can you? You're so pretentious, so pitiable. It's a wonder that you lot ever managed to isolate us, persecute and abuse and murder _us_. We're stronger than you; faster, keener, and better than you. You… You're weak. Weak and disgusting."

Biting his lip, Harry tried desperately to regain his breath; he had had the wind knocked out of him, and he trembled with the effort he put into the simple act.

"You…" Harry gasped. "You're wrong." He spat a splash of blood out onto the floor. "I don't need laws or wands to defeat you."

"Oh? No?"

"No. I don't even have a wand on me. I don't need one."

The werewolf laughed mirthfully, obviously enjoying what he thought was a front of bravado.

"Ever the courageous hero, Harry Potter," he said. "You are perhaps the only wizard I'll maybe almost miss. You were always so fun. But now… It's time."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "It is."

A vibrant green streak enveloped Harry's attacker and he slumped lifeless over Harry's legs. Snape stood over him, chest heaving, sharply inhaling and exhaling breath between angry and thin lips. Wordlessly, he extended a hand to Harry.

"Potter…"

"Thank you. Again." Harry lifted himself up heavily upon Snape's arm. After standing he still held the long, bony hand in his own. His eyes locked onto Snape's unwaveringly.

"Greyback?"

Snape grunted. "I had to choose."

"Oh…"

It remained unspoken, but both heard it.

_I chose you._


	7. The Prince and Me

Chapter Seven: The Prince and Me

Day Four

07:00

After clearing out the Ministry and rescuing all of the hostages, sending people home and finding those officials who should be in charge, Harry and the others returned to Hogwarts to _plan_. With Greyback still at large and at least two other ministries under werewolf control, and countless people in danger and the full moon only two days away, they didn't have time to waste.

And what was Harry Potter doing? What did the savior of the wizarding world have on his mind?

Just one thing.

Snape.

He sat with everyone in the Great Hall, going over what to do- making and remaking plans. And all he could think about was Snape. Snape, who chose to save his life over stopping Greyback, over saving everyone else in the entire nation. _Snape_.

For so long Harry had thought of Snape as the evil potions master, even when he had... Harry shook the memory from his mind and focused on _now_. _Now_ was the problem he needed to deal with. The past was over.

Now he needed to figure out what it was he was doing with Snape. Was it stress? Was it more? Did it matter? Should he just let whatever was happening happen?

If he could just talk to someone about it, then maybe he could make some sort of sense of it.

"What do you think Harry?"

He looked over at Hermione blankly. His ribs still hurt, his face was covered in some minty salve Snape had smeared on him the second they came through the cabinet, and for the last two hours he's been sitting with Teddy and Remus, thinking about the Half Blood Prince. What did he think? He thought he needed to talk to Snape before he lost the rest of his bloody mind.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I haven't been paying attention." He admitted. "All I could think about was saving everyone, and now that it's… well now that my family is safe, I…"

"It's fine, Harry dear," Molly gently said, handing him a fresh cuppa. "You've been through so much in these last few days, and look at you. You've more than earned some rest." She placed a large plate of warm biscuits between Harry and Teddy. The little boy gleefully took two, one for each fist. Remus laughed merrily at his son's antics, too happy to reprimand Teddy for his selfish behavior.

"Yes, and no one else has suffered at all." Draco commented, "Potter, if you don't want to be here then maybe you should go nap. The rest of us have spent the last few hours trying to figure out how best to handle this crisis and you've been sitting there being absolutely useless. If you haven't anything useful to contribu-"

"Why don't you get stuffed, Malfoy!" Ron sneered angrily as he puffed up in his chair.

"No, Ron" Harry calmly said, shaking his head slightly. "Draco is right, and I'm sorry."

Every occupant of the room peered quietly at Harry in imperceptible shock. Sure, those two weren't mortal enemies anymore, but none would have guessed that Harry and Draco would be on first name basis and, by the queer look on Malfoy's face, neither did he. But after Harry's day with the Snapes… it was different now. Everything was. So, as long as Draco wasn't being a prat, and Harry was being useless…

"So, what's the plan?" Harry asked, stirring a biscuit in his already sweet tea.

"We can't decide on one," Brandon piped up. "They wanted you to be the tie breaker; they can't even decide where to go first, France or Germany."

"Where's Greyback?" Harry asked. That's where they'd go, obviously.

"We don't know."

"Where's Snape?" That's where he'd go, obviously.

"He's in his old quarters…" Hermione gave him a curious little look. "He was rather tired, and wounded, Harry."

Harry softly squished Teddy's round little hand in his own, Hermione had sent for him when Remus was found in the woods and Andromeda came as quickly as possible, the now five year old boy was thrilled that he had a father, he seemed to immediately accept Remus. But Ted was like that, so loving and accepting.

Harry's mind made the slow move from his god son to Snape. Had Snape been injured? He hadn't noticed.

"Oh." Harry said. "I'll go ask him." He placed smiling Teddy back onto Remus' lap. Lupin looked eons better; Harry thought it was mostly due to being reunited with Teddy, although those potions he had Severus slave over couldn't have hurt either. "I'll be back up. Don't wait up for me."

"Harry?" Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, then the witch tugged her sweetheart's elbow. "Go ahead, Harry."

"Don't you pester that man, Mister Potter," McGonagall clucked, lifting her chin warningly.

"And don't run off again," Malfoy muttered under his breath and behind his tea.

Harry closed the double doors to the warm room of the great hall behind him. The stone here was cold, he felt it with his uncovered hands. He tried to gather himself, his nerves and courage, but he couldn't bring himself to feel any braver, any less unsure. He'd have to speak to him then, vulnerable and shaking as he was.

He met no one on his way back, but he heard the hustle and voices of the occupants of the castle. Word had spread quickly of Greyback's downfall, and riots had broken out all throughout. There was still scuffling and blood in the streets, but the last day had emerged with the wizards victorious, in England, anyway. There would be a witch hunt now; if regulations regarding werewolves were bad before, Harry had no idea what they'd be now. He feared for Remus' safety, and for the countless others who had been attacked by the lycanthropic aggressors.

He didn't knock upon Severus' door; he simply entered and made his way in. The man wasn't present in his front room, nor the lab, nor the bedroom, so Harry opened the door to the bath.

Snape sat, back to Harry, wringing out his hair. His arms were scratched and raw, his back beaten and bruised. His waist was obscured by a fresh towel, and his legs rested in the tub. Harry took note of the whiteness of Snape's nape, of the incline of his neck and how he could count each protruding vertebrae, every bone on the body visible.

Harry stood awkwardly in the doorway, not thinking of anything in particular. Just _looking_.

"Make yourself useful; hand me that brush."

Harry obliged, barely. He leaned down on his knees and began running the brush through his old professor's damp hair. Snape didn't say anything. He didn't move or tense or relax or anything.

"What am I doing?" Harry sighed into Severus' pale, scarred shoulder.

"To what are you referring?" Snape asked, exhausted. If he was honest with himself, he was asking himself the very same question.

"My wife died four days ago." Harry fought the urge to find comfort with Snape and continued on, gripping the hairbrush until his knuckles turned white. "And for some reason, the first thing I decide to do is jump into bed with you. I don't… I don't know why and-"

"We can immediately end this if it is so appalling to-"

"Will you let me finish?" Harry had to stand directly in Snape's way, clinging to those bruised arms, to keep Severus from leaving the room, _his_ room. "I didn't say that, did I? How could I? When you're so bloody fantastic at it? But I'm not talking about the _sex_! Well, it's not just the sex… Is it?"

Harry realized what he was asking. But Snape said nothing, sitting back down on the edge of the bath. Not in defeat, but just sitting, waiting, the very state of dignity, even in just a towel.

"I love Ginny. But you, you're different. This can't just be me clinging to you because she's gone… Right? I mean, if we think about it, I've been trying to get in your pants since fifth year."

"One failed, stupid, drunken attempt does not an obsession make." Severus commented quietly, but said nothing else. There were dark circles under his eyes; they were always there. Even in the memories Snape had hidden away in the pensieve so many years ago; Harry wondered idly what the professor would look like without them.

"You saved me."

Snape closed his eyes, his temper even, his words emotionless. "I've been saving you from yourself since you were a child."

"So it's just habit then?" Their eyes met. No, it wasn't habit. "I'm… I think I'm afraid of you." A brow arched, "I don't want to talk about this with you, and I can't talk about it with anyone else. I need to know that this isn't insane, that it isn't just… I'm buggering this." Harry sat on the toilet and despairingly put his head in his hands.

"Say what you must, Potter."

"Tell me it's not wrong! What we're doing... Tell me that I'm not going insane. That this isn't just grief, and stress, and hopeless anger, or temporary insanity or some other bollocks! Tell me that my being here, wanting you, isn't betraying Ginny. That my needing you isn't wrong." Harry looked down at his hands, still holding the brush, then looked back up to meet that perfectly stoic face. "I _need_ you," he finished wistfully.

"I cannot absolve you of any slights you imagine for yourself." Severus couldn't even absolve his own. "Entangled between us is much more than simply your _feelings_, much more." He sighed, a sigh older than he was, more tired, more fragile, more resigned. Harry locked his jaw shut, looking away, ashamed.

"_Harry_."

Snape's thin, ghastly white arms reached out; his hands twisted together, just falling short of the man across him, centimeters shy from Harry's line of sight. Severus sighed, quietly, finitely. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth and finally took the trembling idiot into his arms.

He didn't say anything; the caress wasn't inviting, necessarily, but it sufficed. He led Harry out of the quickly chilling bathroom and into his bed, pressing him down into the mattress and removing the man's glasses. Harry's eyes remained closed, but tell-tale tear streaks remained on his face, just catching the shimmer of the soft light of the fire. Uncharacteristically, or most characteristic to his nature, Severus leaned down and kissed Harry's shut eyelids, enveloping him once again in a gentle and ungraceful caress. Harry exhaled, relinquishing himself once again to the care of the older man.

"I love you," he confessed quietly, tilting his head to the side and whispering his words into the starched pillow case. If Severus heard him, he didn't acknowledge the words, and never would.

Snape ran his hands in Harry's hair, his pale fingers contrasting wildly with the curling, black tresses. The youth pressed his head up and against the cool palms, like a cat wanting to be pet.

Languidly, the potions master traced over Harry's scar, trailing over the forehead and smooth temples and ghosting over cheekbones pink and hot to the touch. Harry's breathing remained deep, his lips just barely opened to let a small, happy exaltation of breath escape and warm Severus' wrist, resting just over the wanly smiling mouth. Harry opened his eyes and looked at his former teacher perched over him. He raised his own hands, resting them just over Snape's sharply jutting hips. He tugged the towel down the man's waist, just pulling with his fingertips until it loosened and fell of its own accord. He rubbed the man's torso, warming the ever-cold skin that hardly covered the ribs beneath them with the touch of his hands.

He was so intricately bound to this man he could never escape him.

Not that he ever wanted to.

Harry pulled Severus down to him and pushed his mouth to Snape's. Damn his grieving and his worrying and the rest of the world and all its fears and facts; he needed this. He would always need this.

Severus' mouth responded to his, calmly, but no less affectionately, or wantonly. The man parted his lips and pressed his tongue against Harry's tasting the soft, generous kiss slowly, determinedly. Beneath him, Harry moaned, his eyelashes fluttered closed and open again, and his breathing hitched just enough to be arousing, erotic in essence and irresistible. He arched his back, grinding his hips into Snape's naked body.

Long thin fingers pulled his shirt up and their mouths broke apart for the moment it took to remove Harry's shirt. All Harry could think was that he had to keep kissing him, touching him. It was all that really mattered.

Gently pushing at Severus' shoulder, he rolled the man to his back. He caressed and moved against him, careful to not put too much weight on him, and after several moments of slow kissing and light sensual touches he broke their kiss and lay his cheek against Snape's, breathing heavily. His lips moved to say it again but nothing came out and he kissed the man's shoulder instead.

His mouth moved back to Severus' and he tried to share the feelings through the kiss, exploring the cool, pale skin beneath him. His hands moved, stroking the battle-scarred flesh. His fingers kissed that collarbone, followed those ribs down to that waist, trailed across hips, and dared to journey lower. One hand encircled Snape's heavy member, the other started work on his own belt and he pushed his pants off. They caught around his ankles and he cursed softly against Severus' mouth.

Wordlessly Snape watched as Harry struggled off the side of the bed to stand and remove his clothing. It was comical and ridiculous and stunning. Harry realized he was being watched and a red flush came over his body, carrying bruises of its own. Snape held up his hand as Harry moved back to the bed, stopping him. The blush grew, as Severus knew it would, and he let his eyes take in the thin, toned muscles of the younger man: the shorter height, the fuller body. Those green, green eyes… Snape silently let out his breath. What a pair they made.

Severus was not an emotional man. He didn't know what to say to Harry, to make him understand, to assuage his fears. He had done everything he knew how to, everything he possibly could to make the idiot understand. Speaking loving words was never something he had been good at, to say the least. He hoped his actions would belay his attachment.

He let his hand fall and Harry climbed back into the four-poster and their mouths met again, the kissing seemed different. Their first encounters were confusing and passionate respectively, but this time the heaviness of the conversation, of Greyback's escape, lingered over them and instead of quick powerful thrusts driving them to completion it was slow and purposeful when Severus entered Harry. He allowed Harry to ride him. The seeker rose and fell with each measured breath, hips rolling _deliciously_ over Severus' own. He ground himself onto Snape's body, mindlessly grasping Snape anywhere he could as he drowned himself in his own rhythm, his own pleasure.

And Snape watched as Harry built them up, his eyes locked on the Gryffindor's face. He watched as it emoted every feeling he was having, every ecstasy, every shudder. An odd euphoria came over the both of them, two broken souls intertwined, with a passion building between them that neither could put to words.

Harry had never in his life thought to feel this way. To feel like something inside of him was finally complete, and it was only now- in these moments with Snape, that he came so enticingly close to that completion. He raised his body until Snape was nearly out of him and then slid himself slowly down on the older man, grazing his prostate in such a delicious way that Harry felt it could be the end of him. He moaned, needing that sensation again, rolling his hips back hungrily. Harry lost himself then, and rocked forward, kissing Severus, trying to communicate in a way that he wasn't able to aloud. When Harry came, he drew out Severus' orgasm with his, after which the younger man gracelessly toppled over and did not move. Exhausted, Harry whispered those words again into Severus' chest, curling himself into the other man's warmth.

"Your insanity is not temporary." Severus replied, and when he was sure his partner was asleep, he left the bed to dress.

Day Four

11:00

Harry woke slowly, his body ached- and not just his arse. His ribs and his face still felt like hell and he was sure he would be sore for weeks if he couldn't get his hands on some more of that salve. But he had lost his pack at the Ministry, along with his wand and all of his prized possessions.

Turning, he noticed Snape was gone. Of course he was, it was morning- or at least Harry hoped it was still morning. It wouldn't look good if his friends found him sleeping in Snape's bed. A note lay next to him and after finding his gasses on the bedside table he recognized Severus' small scratchy hand, the Half-Blood Prince's handwriting.

_I have several matters to attend to. Do not leave the castle._

_-S.S._

"You slept with him again." The small familiar voice of Dorian Snape said pointedly.

Startled, Harry dropped the note, and realizing he was naked he pulled the dark sheet up to his chest. The child was at the door and immediately walked further into the room and climbed right into the bed next to Harry.

"I suppose there is no helping it."

"Wha- What are you doing?!" Harry demanded, "Dorian you can't be in here."

"Oh?" A brow arched, "I suppose I can go see Grandmother. She sent me to get you, but I'll just tell her that you are here waiting for _him._ Naked."

Neither of them moved as Harry slowly came to the realization that the boy was black-mailing him. But for what?

"You don't have to go…" Harry said slowly and the boy smiled. _Alright,_Harry thought, _so long as he doesn't tell anyone what I'm doing in Snape's room..._ "Dorian, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone."

"I'd appreciate it if you would stop sleeping with _him_." Dorian said pointedly, "But I suppose it isn't fair to make you wait for me to come of age. So until then you can blunder about with _him_."

Harry nearly choked on his own tongue leaving the bed and scrambling to put on his clothes. _WHAT?_ "That… That's very kind of you."

Dorian looked a little disappointed when Harry left the bed but he climbed down wordlessly and moved closer to the older man. "You do have to come upstairs now."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, following Dorian.

"Father sent for us, since it's relatively safe now." He didn't sound like he believed it. "Grandmother sent me to find you; she's ready and they wanted you to see."

"She?" Harry asked and nearly ran into Snape as they entered the living area.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Snape demanded of Dorian.

"Nothing." Harry said quickly, earning a suspicious look from Severus. "He just came to find me is all. I think he likes me."

"I do." Dorian said pointedly, looking darkly at Snape. Harry realized that was the wrong thing to say. The kid was ten for Merlin's sake! It was weird, and disturbing.

Was that the way Snape saw him? Harry had a sinking in his gut. Was he weird and disturbing as well?

Harry shook the feeling off and escaped from the room, ahead of the two glaring Snapes.

"So who's ready?" Harry asked, trying to break the chilly silence as they headed into the Great Hall.

But as they entered the room he didn't need them to say a thing He saw her. In the center, laying under a transparent sheet of white laced with gold and on an alabaster platform just like the one given to Albus, was his wife. She was wearing a soft green robe and her neatly manicured toes could be seen through the sheet. She had just had them done, for their honeymoon.

Harry barely noticed everyone else. Vaguely he could hardly hear Molly's soft cries and Hermione trying to stifle her own as she tried to comfort her husband.

Ginny looked like she was sleeping, clean and quiet, and just lying there. She gave no sign that she had been left on the sandy beach where she died. Her hands were folded on her midriff and she could have been sleeping soundlessly. He touched her soft hair his legs buckled, hardly feeling the impact when his knees hit the floor.

Snape had brought her here, brought her to him. Because it mattered, because it was important. He brought Harry his wife so he could grieve.

He wanted to scream, to shout and to rage. How could she be dead? How could he have let this happen? There was no hiding from it now, as she lay there in front of him.

He tried to push Ron and Hermione away, a sob racking his body. As he held onto the cool marble edge, fingertips brushing her cold dead skin, his friends held on to him, trying to give and receive comfort. After all they had been through together; it was the only way. It will forever be the three of them at the graves of those they loved, just as it had been three years ago.

That was when he noticed that Ginny wasn't the only one there, but all of them. Alicia, and the others Greyback had killed every hour Harry didn't rescue them, were laid out in for viewing, for grieving, like an offering.

"Sna- ." Hermione finally got out, not bothering to brush her tears away. "It was Severus. He just walked in with all of them, preserved and prepared. We all were planning away trying to figure out what to do about Greyback, and he did the one thing we should have done first. He just- I hadn't even thought-"

Ron's face was grieving with shame, and Harry hugged him, knowing the feeling first hand. "She-" But Ron shook his head and returned the hug, bitter hot tears falling onto Harry's hair. There was no blame here, only sorrow and regret.

He gently dislodged his friends and stood to lean over her, pulling her close he held her and brushed her hair with a hand.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered to her, wishing she could hear. Wishing she could talk to him, "I love you, Ginny." His voice was hoarse. "I'm so bloody sorry. I should have listened to you. We should have apparated, or had a portkey… or… It should have been me. I should have protected you. I should have saved you. If anything in life was worth saving it was you."

Hermione sobbed audibly and buried her face into Ron's chest. Harry laid her gently back onto the platform, arranging her hair the same way it would fall on her pillow. He couldn't bring himself to say goodbye. So he just stood there, looking down at her, caressing her face.

13:00

And that was the way Snape left them. However, hours later, when he returned from the potions lab and retired to his room, he found six Snapes sitting by the fire, save Dorian, who was going through his bookshelves.

"What are-"

"I told you, he thinks we're idiots." Brandon commented and received a sour look from both his wife and mother.

"We are going with you," Allora said coolly, "Minus the children of course, and there will be no arguments."

"I'll be coming as well." Remus Lupin, entered through the door behind him with Draco in tow.

Severus clenched his jaw, he knew he was going to be sorry when he made those potions, he just didn't realize it would be so soon. The occupants of the room looked determined and Snape knew he would have only moments to convince them otherwise.

He turned to the werewolf and punched him square in the gut. Remus gasped and toppled over onto Draco, who looked absolutely shocked. "You aren't fit to walk around the castle; what makes you think you'd be of any use to me?" Severus demanded and turned to Draco. "Take him back to the Weasleys and keep an eye on Potter."

"But-"

"This will be a difficult enough endeavor without the trail of bodies I have to hide as I hunt the bastard," Snape snapped. "I work alone; it is the only way I can even possibly get to him alive. If we all disappear it will not go unnoticed and those fools upstairs will blunder in like the stampede of moronic Gryffindors they are and ruin whatever chance we may have at killing this bastard. It will take time, and it will take precision and tact that none of you are capable of." He turned to his aunt. "I will not have you put yourself at risk."

"And I will have it of you?" Her brow arched, dark eyes searching his. "It wasn't so long ago that you were dead and lost to us."

"You are all aware that the margin for failure is increased with numbers."

"Very well." Thane said, cutting his wife off with a look, "We will keep Potter and the others busy."

Brandon moved to kiss his wife goodbye and Severus snorted, "You're not going."

"The hell I'm not."

"The hell you are, I will not risk-"

"If you think I can't go unseen as well as you then-"

"That is precisely what I think." The two Snapes glared at each other before Severus, done with the conversation, summoned a pre-packed bag and marched towards the floo.

"Wait." Remus pushed off of Draco and stood, "I want to talk to you before you go." The six Snapes looked at the wounded werewolf expectantly. "Alone."

Severus paused a moment before walking to his potions lab and sound proofing it behind them.

"What you've done for Harry is enough." Remus said softly, "If he doesn't know by now he'll never figure it out. You don't have to do this."

"What are you-" Remus tapped his nose knowingly and Snape sneered. "That is none of your-"

"I didn't say it was, I won't even tell Harry I know. Not until you're both ready and it's no one's business. I just don't want you throwing your life away when it's obviously not necessary. This isn't your war and it isn't Harry's. The Ministry has been freed and the others will be saved as well. It's over; leave it to the Aurors and the Ministry, Severus, I'm asking you- for Harry's sake, don't do this."

Severus said nothing, warily gauging the werewolf with dark, piercing eyes.

"I'm not going to pretend to understand what's happening, and I have no right to make any judgments. But I know that Harry needs the people around him, and you wouldn't have done what you did if he didn't matter, so for Harry's sake. Don't do this Snape."

"I could have killed Greyback two years ago, when I found him gathering his first bits of an army." Snape didn't know why he was confessing this, but it seemed as if someone ought to know. He would undoubtedly be dead by nightfall. "Instead, to keep the world from realizing I survived the Dark Lord, I him go, assuming the Ministry and the Aurors would take care of it in due time."

He walked around his old desk and looked over the rows of potion tables as he had countless times before. "Six months ago he approached me, not surprised in the least at my continued existence, and requested a potion made. When I refused he attacked and I was captured, kept under a strong dose of a compulsion potion to brew the mixture that would be forced down the throats of all the captured witches and wizards, giving them a good chance to survive the mauling. They would be cursed because of my actions, and my choice."

Was this why it had been so important to save Potter? It was the one thought in his mind as he left the wolf, telling him he would bring Potter to him.

It had been hard; those grueling months under Greyback's control. He had slowly decreased the potency of the compulsion potion every time it had to be brewed; the moron had had him make it for himself, after the first cathartic dose. He had been pushed down, beaten into unconsciousness, and when he had awakened, he had already been administered the elixer. He was lucky; his grueling years at the hands of Voldemort and Dumbledore had been more than enough training to break the effects of a measly second-rate potion.

He gave Lupin a rueful glare and left him standing, dumbstruck in the potions lab. Remus watched as Severus left the room, left the school, probably for the last time.


End file.
